


Alterations

by Wyle23



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Gen, eventual and slow Jackim, non-degraded Jack Spicer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyle23/pseuds/Wyle23
Summary: Things change all the time. What is fun and fulfilling one day may be mundane and dissatisfying the next. For Jack, evil has always been the way to go. But what if the fun of it were lost? What if its oh so attractive luster began to diminish? Nothing stays the same forever, but not all changes are bad. [BEING REWRITTEN] [CHAPTERS DONE: 6]





	1. Chapter 1

The ruse went perfect – better than expected, actually, considering those Xiaolin _Losers_ hadn’t the slightest clue. How his Ninja-Bot’s crashing retreat through countless shops in that coastal market went unnoticed, he’ll never know. Or question. But while their being hard of hearing was more humorous than problematic, the Wu he collected from his earlier encounter with those losers in bath robes proved to be one.

The Zing Zom-Bone.

Jack has no use for the artifact. He's an evil genius with robotic minions that are vastly superior to zombies.

‘ _They definitely win in the intelligence department,_ ’ grouses the pale teenager whilst walking down yet another teal-colored hallway, the sharp ends of his black trench coat swaying with each step. There are enough mindless people and… _entities_ in his life already.

Fortunately, PandaBubba gave him a call not long after the useless Wu’s retrieval, wishing to make trade. At the time, Jack was mostly just happy for the distraction from his company. Joy from lying to Wuya was all but annihilated by then, his buzzing phone a saving grace.

Not that Jack hadn’t his doubts of the offer’s evil seal of integrity. New bots are always exciting, particularly when he isn't short on funds for the materials; however, PB doesn’t know a _thing_ about robotics. It is a fact. A shortsighted moron could never dream of understanding the complex intricacies of designed and manufactured artificial intelligence. Though after an explanation of what upgrades had been made to his Koi-Bot design, Jack was more than pleased. Armor plates of a strong titanium alloy, weapon and systems enhancements, and a new menacing design was too good to pass up. And he never let the excitement show in his voice.

Too bad the meeting point reeks. The Assembly Room #4 Lookout within the Tohomiko Electronic’s Skyscraper is where PandaBubba told Jack to meet him with the Wu, and this is a problem for two big reasons: It's a _skyscraper,_ and he hasn’t the slightest clue where _anything_ in said building is, let alone the **_Assembly Room Number Four_ _Lookout._**

He was going to ask the mob boss what floor the damn place was on right after it was named as the meet, but Pandabubba, the short-sighted panda-freak, chose to hang up before Jack's mouth could even open.

The lack of respect for an evil genius such as himself was incredible to say the least. Not even an evil chuckle in parting? A “goodbye” or “farewell”? Jack understands that they are both evil and all – himself to a much higher extent – but that doesn’t mean common evil courtesy has to go out the window.

‘ _That kind of thing should be reserved for the good guys!_ ’

Now he’s wandering around within the gigantic building without a clue where he’s going, searching in desperate secrecy for some kind of map to help out. This has been the case for around twenty minutes or so, and, oh, what an enjoyable twenty they've been. The insurmountable pleasure of Wuya’s incessant complaining throughout that duration was entirely its own – and that wasn’t even taking into account the verbal bombardment during his walk to the skyscraper.

Jack’s eyes warily roll to one side, peering back at the witch hag. The orbs narrow. She’s quiet, _for once_ , but clearly irritated. Her tendrils are crossed, hateful red swirls looking off to the side as her head-based limbs twitch erratically. Jack’s nose turns up in mutual disdain. Recalling her non-stop questioning serves only to further wrinkle his nose in revulsion.

His gaze goes back ahead, but the damage is done. His retinas need a break. However, a man some ways up ahead is looking to become another archaic nuisance. Mop in hand, Jack mentally dubs him, _'Janitor Duty.'_ He’s short and old, wearing an all-blue jumpsuit. Though it’s his persisting frown of disapproval that grates on Jack’s already Wuya-irritated nerves.

Nearing, Jack begins to smell a familiar decay emanating from Janitor Duty. Though it can never hope to rival the ever-undisputed beholder of offensive odors wafting and floating behind him, the Stench of the Old is still recognizable in the air.

 _His_ air.

Janitor Duty's frown deepens just a tad. He seems ready to speak, but Jack moves faster, and his is an angry sneer. Jack's black brows descend harshly as pale fingers curl into fists at his sides, the evil genius looming over his _newest_ _a_ _ged_ _annoyance_.

The man’s face can’t change fast enough.

“ _You want something,_ _ **Mop-Man**_?!” hollers the evil genius. He doesn’t want to see _or_ smell Wuya’s youth, never-mind be _lost in it!_

It’s as if the man's previous expression hadn’t been there: curious disapproval in one second and wide-eyed fright in the next. Shocked as he is, though, Janitor Duty seems to feel his calling in the next instance.

The old geezer starts to hastily mop the floor. Jack turns on his heel and strides onward. A mild smirk plays on his lips. He continues to once again survey his surrounding, looking to and fro, ignoring a sounding snort from behind him.

He is soon before a T-junction.

A left turn is Jack’s immediate choice.

No need to give the witch hag any clue as to just how lost he is. How she hasn’t made the connection yet, what with how long he’s been walking around bickering with her about the “lost” Wu, is unknown, but he’s thankful for it nonetheless.

Somewhat. Kinda. A little bit.

Not really...

Yet his teeth grind for completely different reasons.

A map. There are none. Have _been_ none. Two floors thus far, and not once was any sort of visual aid given on where anything was within the building.

How is it possible...? The place is _huge!_ Who's the com- _plete_ –

“You’re lost, aren’t you,” speaks one particularly unmissed voice from behind. He can easily picture the irritated, withering expression on her “face”.

“What?” Jack replies with fake shock, not turning. “I’m not lost,” he denies with a dismissive wave in her direction, “I’m just… taking the scenic route.”

Scenic route indeed. The secretly aimless walk has shown many a robotic invention thus far. Rather impressive ones at that. There was even one holding familiarity to a creation of his own. A creation by the name “U–Bot”.

Able to mimic its owner’s appearance and personality, memories of Chameleon-Bot’s infiltration had flooded Jack’s mind whilst he took in the smaller robot's silver design. For a good moment, an amused grin accompanied his lengthy, curious glance.

Until a particular monk popped into mind, far less amusing considerations having occurred. It was then that he chose to look harder at the next item of not-as-great interest.

The thing is small. Miniature. Nice materials and internals, and the perfect mimicry of another’s personality is nice, but Chameleon-Bot did the job fine enough while morphing instead into a perfect, _life-size_ replica. It also fought, had a _two-way_ video feed, and once-upon-a-time was a loyal automaton.

Designed and built by himself, it's only natural for CB to be the better bot.

Wuya flies over to the side of Jack’s head, earning a frowning glance in her direction. “You’re a terrible liar,” she states. Her ghostly arms cross. The look on her mask-like face is sharpened with annoyance.

“And you’re a terrible side-kick,” Jack shoots back.

Upon seeing Wuya’s expression scrunch up in anger at being called that, his black brows lower inward as she flies up, closer to his head. Wuya’s ghostly form vibrates with some meaningless power, ethereal body boiling in a visible rage that courses through her trembling tendrils.

The screeching rebuttal is impending.

Jack exhales strongly through the corner of his mouth. The breath immediately blows her away in a darting rush, all of her purple appendages trailing in an undulating mess.

His smile widens, spreading across his face as fast as her forced retreat. Relief sags his shoulders just so, though, Jack's next intake quick yet fulfilling. For not only did the action save his sense of hearing, but smell as well. The stench she manages to give off from that mouth – even as a freaking ghost – is an evil not even Hannibal Roy Bean would dare dabble with. And this evil genius plans on keeping all his senses in working condition, thank you very much.

Hope for the conversation’s end proves to be a useless one, not for the first time. Wuya growls low, frustration adding a grating reverberation to the noise. And then she speaks. Interrupting his search. Again.

“Are you ever going to at _least_ tell me why we are here?”

The past twenty minutes flashes before his mind, and Jack groans. Somehow, Wuya’s actually managed to get _naggier_ since his accepting her back. Half the time it's both the beginning _and_ end of his day.

Not that he doesn’t spite her in return.

Jack shrugs lazily, mumbling what can vaguely be described as him not knowing. He takes longer steps, the action proving fruitful in getting him away from her. Her ensuing growl of fury grinds his nerves just as much as it utterly satisfies his black heart.

Maybe she’d explode from anger eventually. What a _**great**_ turn of evil events that would be.

‘ _Then again,_ ’ he muses, quietly snickering to himself, ‘ _she just might when she finds out what I’m here for. She’s always so gung-ho about getting all the Wu, after all._ ’

His humorous thoughts are brought to a stop as he enters what appears to be an elevator lobby. A few pieces of furniture line the small space. However, his focus is on what lies between the rather sizable gap of the two elevators.

A large stone slab is embedded into the wall. On it lies a large mapping of the building.

“Finally!” Jack yells, running to it. Upon reaching it, he immediately begins searching. His pale finger descends one of the lists of locations.

"No, nada, nein, negative, não, ne, _ugh_ –"

Yet another growl sounds from behind him, this time angrier and much harsher. He takes a side-glance at Wuya, his pale finger pausing in its trailing search. Narrowed eyes, sharp ethereal teeth, and appendages moving in a furious frenzy meet his sight. There are even some slow-flowing electrical currents coursing around her.

' _Huh._ _Haven't seen that in a while,_ ' Jack vaguely realizes, refocusing on the matter at hand. His finger continues, but this time he knocks them off mentally.

‘ _There we go!_ ’ he thinks eagerly. Right above his finger nail are the words of his destination. Getting the reference number, he then looks to the map’s model of the building. Sections go by, then levels, followed by floors, and his location is soon known.

‘ _Floor twenty… go right after taking one of these elevators down… and the fourth left turn. Sweet._ ’

With a content smile, Jack walks over to the closest elevator, pressing the call-button next to it. Waiting before the solid metal doors, his arms go rearward. He grabs around a wrist and begins to whistle a tune as he waits.

In a few seconds, it arrives and the metal doors slide apart.

He walks toward it, tune still going, eyes shut. By the time he steps on the threshold, however, the most profound feeling of nausea _slams_ through his chest _,_ spreading a sickening wave of goosebumps down his entire body.

Jack’s red eyes shoot open, feet barely leaving the ground as a sharp yelp flies from his lips. His eyes dart down to see Wuya’s tendrils still passing through him. Her chuckle is low and dark whilst she continues into the elevator.

 _All_ of him is shocked stiff in the wake of her sudden blow. An intense need to shake vibrates through his tall-standing form. His arms lower, curling fingers creating trembling fists. Breathing shakily, he let’s the intense feeling shake his entirety in utter disgust, head twisting side to side. Then he’s still and stiff again.

Jack’s fists uncurl, slowly, a shallow breath passing his clenched teeth. His fingers twitch a measure. After a moment, they’re lax, calmly flexing outward. He lifts a hand to his chest, exhaling a relieved sigh that it’s over.

Until the hand fists again, his other one doing so too before he swipes the risen limb back down to match it. His eyes glare harshly at the smirking wench in the elevator.

“Dammit, Wuya, you _know_ I hate it when you do that!” Jack bellows.

She suddenly growls, rushing up to his face. He pulls back at her forwardness, but still meets and returns her scornful sneer in full.”And _you_ know that I hate _wasting time!_ You should be searching for the Shen Gong Wu you so stupidly let get away in your usual incompetence, **NOT** lollygagging in this tower!” she roars in reply.

“Boundaries,” mutters Jack through clenched teeth, a hand covering his nose and mouth. When she backs off to a more tolerable distance, he lowers the hand, rolling his red eyes.

“Well,” Jack flippantly begins whilst finally entering the elevator, “it’s not like you _had_ to tag along.”

He eyes the control panel, pressing the appropriate button.

“Seriously,” continues the redhead, watching the floor counter go up, “you’re even lamer than me with how you follow like a lost puppy.” It ends as a groused out statement, the boy genius crossing his arms and trying to repress the _re_ _volt_ _ing_ experience she’d put him through.

Turning to look at her reveals a still-smirking hag, though there is more amusement lacing the mask-lines of Her Horrendousness. The ugliness gives way to his realization of the blunder, Jack swiftly thrusting out a pointing finger at her. “ _That_ didn’t come out right!”

Wuya merely closes her eyes and shakes her head condescendingly, chuckling in the midst of it. She crosses her tendrils thereafter, the amused glint in her swirly eyes remaining on the elevator doors.

Jack sticks his tongue all the way out at her. He pushes a thumb up against his nose, too, Jack wagging the hand’s fingers back and forth. He’s _**HAPPY!**_ he doesn’t have to wish she were dead.

Thankfully, that’s the end of things, leaving a much appreciated silence. Steadfast in taking advantage, Jack moves backward, his back eventually hitting the rear wall of the elevator. He leans on it in wait.

Jack’s eyes get bored of watching the doors, control panel, the wall not in Wuya’s direction, and eventually land on the floor. There is an engraving. “Tohomiko Electronics Skyscraper,” it reads.

Jack’s black brows scrunch inward at the words. Yet again, the name is drawing his attention. For some reason, it seems familiar. Tohomiko… He just can’t place his evil finger on what it is, though.

A pleasant, low beep sounds, earning Jack’s attention upward as the elevator doors open. Once again he dismisses the thought as unimportant, stepping out and immediately heading down the hall to his right.

There will be time to figure out later.

He eventually enters a larger portion of hallway. Once more, tech lines his sides. Again his red eyes shift left to right, taking in each technology with quickly passing interest. Usually in that the showcased item is a form of video game or toy, all of which lack any form of firepower. Though from what he can tell, the toys are often-times over-engineered for their purpose.

They can’t shoot, but can take a shot. A stupid concept if he ever heard one, and he’s heard a great many.

Take the U-bot for example. Great design, even better concept, yet horrible in its execution. In other words: a giant waste of time.

 _N_ _otable_. But completely useless.

The virtual reality systems, though, are pretty awesome. At least those are pushing some form of boundaries.

Jack’s pace slows whilst taking in the technology on display. Knowing where he is and being distracted from a will-not-be-named atrocity, there’s proper time for a proper walk. He begins to hum during the new leisurely pace. Can hear his mental readings without ear-splitting interference.

It’s a moment of evil serenity.

That is, until Wuya, unfortunately, speaks again: “Look at all this useless junk,” hisses the witch hag in distaste from behind Jack, him giving her a nasty side-glance. “Don’t tell me we're here so you can go _shopping?”_

Jack looks away with a blooming wry smirk, eyes returning to their previous item of interest; she's somewhat close to the truth, he supposes. However, when the next item meets his sight, Jack’s eyes widen considerably.

Ahead, near the wall to his left, are four display cases spread evenly from one another by a few feet. Each one holds its own respective poster upon the wall.

The Goo Zombies series. One through _four_.

The goth teen runs straight up to the fourth one, plastering his face and hands to the display case in awe at the addition.

“When did this happen!?” he yells against the glass. He must have been really preoccupied by his bots and the hunt for Wu to have missed such a major occurrence in the world of gaming.

“ _Now_ what are you yelling about?” grouses Wuya whilst she floats over his left shoulder to peer at what’s garnering the evil boy genius’ attention. She looks at it dully, a brow lifting.

“What it is it?” she asks, somewhat grumpily.

“The _newest addition_ to a great gaming franchise – or at least as far as anything involving zombies goes.” His reply is largely muffled by the glass, voice starting excited and ending in passing casualness.

“A game?” Wuya asks, deadpanning at Jack, angrily. “ _This_ is why you’ve been here for the last twenty minutes wandering around like a lost child? To _steal a game?_ ”

The words take Jack a moment to receive, register – while ignoring a fed up growl – and then comprehend.

“Wait, what?” the redhead mutters in starting incredulity, pulling away from the display case. “No!” Jack stresses, indignant. “Geez, Wuya, I know I’ve done a few questionable things in the past, but that’s just senseless.”

‘ _Albeit tempting,_ ’ he adds. Maybe after the trade…

Wuya’s brow raises at his words. Her head tilts downward, red swirls looking dully over at him from the top of her yellow sockets. The unimpressed stare leads to a disbelieving scoff, telling clearly that she thinks he’s done _way more_ than _just a few_ questionable things and that they are _well_ beyond questionable.

Disapproval lines the crease forming on his brow as he frowns at her. “Oi, don’t give me that look,” starts Jack, scolding her with a brief, yet quickly wagging index finger. “As if you’ve never made a single bad choice in your...”

He trails off, thinking for a moment with a blank stare. The effort is steadfastly tiring, and he settles for, “whatever you call your existence these days.” He walks past her as the words are spat out, waving a rotating hand at her.

“Yes, I’m looking at one of them right now,” Wuya snidely replies from behind him, following.

“And yet you’re still here,” Jack grumbles under his breath.

“ _What?_ ” barks Wuya.

“Nothing,” he replies, turning to give her a pristine, wide smile.

Her expression turns quizzical. But she simply grumbles something to herself, thus ending yet another of their absolutely decorous squabbles that he gets to take part in.

Jack proclaims himself the victor of this session.

As Jack begins to near the left turn at the fourth junction in the hallway, he’s unable to help pondering why he _ever_ took her back. She is _ob-so-lete_. **General** location? _Pfft!_ What does he need _that_ garbage for when his Detecto-bot leads him _straight_ to the artifacts?

‘ _Just look at her_ _now_ _,_ ’ sneers Jack pointedly, _‘She’s worse than dial-up!’_

Sure, she's knowledgeable on all things magical, but outside of Mala Mala Jong and the Fearsome Four, that admittedly extensive understanding never once turned out helpful. Furthermore, _**he**_ _can read,_ _too_ _._ All you have to know is where to look for the information.

Only that doesn’t always work with regards to the Wu. Those details are hit or miss. Which, from his brief personal experience, is more inclined to miss than hit.

So the question is, how much is Wuya’s shred of purpose worth to him?

Making the turn, Jack takes a side-glance at her over his shoulder. Anger and disgust build in very little time.

His eyes dart forward.

He ends up having to think about it later. A set of teal metal double doors are ahead, not too far. Above the entrance is a white sign. On it are the words “Assembly Room #4 Outlook” in red illuminating letters. On both doors is another sign that reads “Staff Only” in white text.

In no time, he’s using one’s silver-metal push pad. It clanks, the door noisily opening and swinging open. PandaBubba comes into view, wearing his usual suited attire. Upon a metal catwalk stands the mob boss, hands on the railing. His gaze turns away from down below, giving Jack a neutral stare.

Jack walks onto the metal walk-way, the lower level coming into view. He gives a brief glance down below, frowning in disinterest at the rows upon rows of workers standing at conveyor belts, working diligently to assemble the robot pieces together as they arrive. Jack looks back to PB with the same dull expression whilst he continues on.

“Alright, PandaBubba,” Jack calls out, “I’ve brought the Zing Zom-Bone just like you–“

“You’ve had it this _entire time?!_ ” yells a confused and suddenly _irate_ Wuya.

Jack grimaces, jerking away stiffly. The sound wave of her speech _smac_ _ks_ into the side of his head. Hair is blown awry. The strands billow wildly, goggles shifting to one side as her screaming question rattles by. By the end of her signature diatribe, his ears have Wuya-induced tinnitus, the _persistent_ ring going loud and strong. It’s going down with each passing second, but he knows (from experience) that the noise will only decrease so much before further gracing him with its presence for hours longer. And both his hair and goggles are blown askew.

It’s a real wonder how he doesn’t need a hearing aid by now. Why she insists on yelling in his ear as if he were on the moon, he will never know.

Uncurling his tight fists, his jaw loses its clench as well. Jack’s eyes open into a withering, narrow glare at the witch hag.

“Yeah,” sneers Jack, straightening his posture, “and thanks for the ringing in my ears, o’ obsolete one.”

“Why _are_ we here, _**Jack?**_ ” seethes Wuya through grit… mask. Her red swirls are livid. Once again, the hag’s extra appendages are erratically flowing. Clearly she’s expecting to not like the answer. His insult likely upset her further.

‘ _Great,_ this _again,_ ’ laments Jack. Not even five minutes, and already she’s trying to start another bicker session over some apparent flaw of his. Like she even knows what evil is. Over fifteen hundred years and she _still_ didn’t know that it’s gloating first, _then_ vaporizing. Miss “I wreaked havoc and destruction when the Earth was still young, and mankind was just climbing out of the mud.”

Yeah, well at that rate, it's gonna take another fifteen centuries for her to get just the _basics_ down. Even _Tubbs_ has made it _that_ far in his evil career, and that tub of lard isn’t anywhere _near_ the triple digits, nevermind four.

“Could ya just chill for once,” complains Jack in slight exasperation. “Seriously, just _shut up_ and you’ll see.”

“Let. Me. Guess,” Wuya grounds out. “You’re going to trade _another_ Shen Gong Wu that should be _mine_ to this man for more of your useless junk. _AGAIN!_ ” she roars at the end of her otherwise hissed out accusation.

It’s amazing. Just like that – so soon after posing it – he’s got the (obvious) answer to his question: _not this_. If knowing what a Shen Gong Wu does before usage means feeling like he lives in a jet engine, he is more than happy to give it up. “Ignorance is bliss” never bore more truth in his life than right now.

The dead wench is taking the fun out evil, and that's just the **wrong** kind of wrong.

Finding out will not be too hard anyways. Those loser monks – particularly the cheeseball – are always yelling about the Wu and usually blurt out the artifact’s power or name.

More importantly, though, Jack aspires to be an **evil** genius, not a _deaf_ one waiting on retina failure to kick in alongside CIPA disease.

“Quick question: Why are you here?” Jack queries, arms crossing tightly. Agitated expectancy narrows his eyes just a little further.

“What?” asks a rather wide-eyed, perplexed Wuya, taken aback by the question.

“Why are you with me? _AGAIN_ ,” he clarifies, mimicking her wretched voice for the last word. “Last _I_ recall,” he jabs a thumb into his chest, “I told _you,_ ” then thrusts a pointing finger at her, “to take a HIKE, since I don’t need you anymore.” He snidely continues, saying, “Still don’t, actually, considering you do literally _nothing_.”

“What are you trying to say,” Wuya inquires, glaring menacingly while ascending to his face.

“To get lost!” Jack swiftly yells in reply, raising a stiff thumb to point over his shoulder. “Go give _someone else_ perforated ears,” Jack grumbles out whilst wholeheartedly returning her glare. A thought hits him, though, making him instead leer right in her face. “Or better yet: go haunt some abandoned dump, like a _real_ evil spirit.”

The moment those words fly free, Wuya yells in outrage, mask-like face looking up in uncontrollable rage whilst her two fisted appendages shake in unrighteous fury. No sooner than the piercing bellow echos from her ethereal lips, Wuya is futilely punching at his face, her attacking limbs passing through harmlessly.

‘ _Boom,_ ’ thinks Jack, intense satisfaction darkening the black heart in his chest. A grin to match the encompassing feeling plasters to his face. Sure, it’s not _exactly_ what he’s been hoping for, but it’s good enough. She’s yelling harshly at him – vulgarities no doubt. However, Jack’s too preoccupied with the glee widening his smile to hear her raging hollers, close as she is.

‘ _Jack Spicer, you’ve officially reached new heights in evil,_ ” he commends himself.

All he manages to make out – thanks to that _breath_ – from her bout of fury is “–er get my body back, I’ll make you _PAY_ for this insolence, **boy** ” and “haunt _you_ until your _**dying day**_ ”. The first one doesn’t matter. She’s never getting that back. That second bit, though? It’s kinda dubious. It doesn’t remove the smile on his face, but a small portion of him wonders if she can really do that.

By the time he’s paying enough attention to try and ask, she’s gone.

‘ _Great, now I’m afraid to go home… Lovely,_ ’ thinks Jack, groaning.

He perks up in the next instance. ‘ _However! She’s_ _ **finally**_ _gone!_ ’ He hopes it’s permanent this time. Just too bad he’ll likely see her during his Wu-hunting quests.

‘ _Eh, joyous day nonetheless._ ’

And with that concluding thought, the goth begins looking forward to a relatively Wuya-less future. Though Jack can’t help but feel like he’s forgetting something… or someone, rather.

Thinking, Jack’s eyes wander to the left. Something enters his peripheral, however, earning his head’s curious turn in the direction. It’s PandaBubba. He’s a short ways from Jack, looking at the redhead with mild bewilderment, a touch of amusement forming a crease on his forehead. The mob boss likely heard every one of Wuya’s departing words that Jack himself mostly ignored. Though it's a wonder how none of the workers down below were staring up at him. Sure, the machinery down below is noisy, but _that_ wench?

Dedication if he’s ever seen it.

Jack coughs into a hand, clearing his throat in an attempt to dissipate the awkwardness left in the atmosphere. PandaBubba’s expression sobers back into a gruff stare, his shoulders squaring.

“So,” begins Jack, approaching PB, “like I was saying, I’ve brought the Zing Zom-Bone, just as you requested.” He reaches into his trench coat, producing the Wu. PandaBubba’s lips curl just so at the sight of it, one end of Jack’s twisting in mutual cruelty.

Reaching PandaBubba, Jack stops and hands over the Wu. The man eyes the artifact with a devious smile. However, Jack’s enjoyment of the ensuing evil deal is short-lived, red eyes sharpening aggressively.

“Now where are those state-of-the-art Koi-Bots you promised me?” Jack demands.

The mob boss chuckles darkly, still eyeing his prize.

“Just as we agreed upon, Spicer,” PandaBubba smoothly replies, lifting an arm and snapping his fingers. The double doors on the other end of the platform fly open, earning Jack’s attention behind PB. In fly four fish-shaped robots in a column formation.

They are bulkier than his version, bearing no moving parts. Curved, thick fins align their sides, black in color. A stripe of matching color goes straight down their backs whilst two long U-shaped ones run along each of their sides, those stripes’ curve going over round red eyes. Dark bronze coats the rest of the bots’ finish, keeping in line with his Jack-Bot’s usual color scheme.

He eyes first the sharp teeth in the new design’s gaping jaws with a sharp grin of his own, the look turning excitedly toothy when his orbs lift to view the new armaments. On each side of the bots’ thick dorsal fin lies an attached gatling gun. On top of the fin is a rocket launcher, visibly armed with a yellow-red tipped missile each.

The colors barely have time to mix with the red of his eyes before he’s running. Rushing past Pandabubba he goes, blowing the man’s clothing like a passing car. He hugs the very first one in the column, arms winding tightly around its large snake-head.

“They’re… they’re beautiful,” praises the boy genius in awe. Jack’s face rubs on the cold metal for a moment, taking a deep inhale of that _wonderful_ new robot smell. Exhaling, he removes his face from the bot, eyeing it with a wicked smile, saying, “Gotta love it.”

He starts taking in the finer details, but is cut short by his company.

“So, Spicer,” begins PB, Jack turning to him, “from one evil genius to another, how _did_ you get this Wu?”

Jack smirks at the question.

“Funny you should ask, PB,” says Jack, hand on hip whilst lifting a finger gun at the crime lord.

Lowering the pointing hand, Jack elaborates: “It was simple, really. I disguised one of my robots as a ninja, and while every one was fighting, he snagged the Wu and quietly disappeared unnoticed.”

Jack snorts thereafter, saying, “Not even _Clown Face_ noticed.” He shakes his head after the derisive comment, crossing his arms with a light chuckle.

Okay, so maybe he was fibbing a _little bit_ with the “quietly” part, but it was generally a true story.

Either way, he imagines PandaBubba is quite impressed. It isn’t every day that one gets to hear the amazing tales of his genius intellect triumphing over those who oppose him. And it isn’t because it rarely happens… He just sometimes runs into a bit of bad luck is all.

“Nice work,” commends PandaBubba. “When we first met, I took you for an incompetent boob.”

“Well, I do my best,” Jack replies with pride, eyeing a risen, overturned hand whilst he runs its thumb across curled fingers. When done, he rubs the back of his fingers along his trench coat’s front, looking to the broad man after lowering the limb.

“Anyways,” Jack starts again, sobering and turning curious, “now that you’ve got the Zom-Bone, what’s up next in your agenda?” The sinister curl twisting at the corners of his mouth is irresistible. “Something evil, I hope.”

“Of course,” returns PandaBubba in a low, menacing voice. The crime boss walks to the edge of the platform, placing a firm hand upon the metal railing. His gaze lowers to the workers on the lower level.

“You see, zombie workers are _very_ good at following orders.” Following the words, PandaBubba reaches an arm down over the railing, pointing the Zom-Bone at the workers.

“Zing Zom-Bone!” shouts PB.

The artifact opens – sort of like a clam – revealing yellow-glowing internals. The moment the Wu is fully open, a yellow energy shoots out in a quick-moving rush, wavy in its smooth travel until it splits apart into countless traveling appendages. Some go for the workers within the room, encapsulating them in its ethereal glow whilst the other bodies of energy continue on in search of victims to enslave.

When the energy dissipates from around the workers, they swiftly moan in a dull fashion, eyes popping wide open. Yet their expressions are otherwise dead, some even having open mouths with the beginnings of trailing saliva.

‘ _Yup, no intelligence at all,_ ’ confirms Jack, leaning on the railing in observation. His arms cross, going on top of the metal barrier. He watches with mild amusement as PandaBubba barks a plethora of demands at the zombies. When finished, the crime boss turns toward Jack, a menacing glint in his eyes to match the sinister curl of his lips.

“With a work force of slave labor, I’ll soon control the _entire_ electronics market,” declares PandaBubba in explanation. His customary evil laugh then comes forth, and Jack joins in with his very own just for the fun of it.

Laughing evilly is a favorite past time, after all. The evil boy genius will take every opportunity to do so. But all evil things come to an end, unfortunately.

“Nice laugh, PB,” compliments Jack, ending his own on trailing chuckles. ‘ _Not as good as mine, though,_ ’ he affirms. No one possesses a better evil laugh than him; it is just a fact of criminal life.

Except maybe Chase. He’s pretty cool, even if he did lose to Master Monk Guan. Though with the technology PandaBubba currently has at his disposal, partnership with the mob boss seems far more enticing.

 **Free**.

Robot.

Parts.

“Hey, you know, we should partner up,” Jack suggests. His arms raise whilst a nefarious, ecstatic grin spreads across his features. “Between your access to technology and my genius, we could rule the world!” The proclamation ends right as the teen’s arms rest at an arc in front of himself, exposed fingers tense and curled like claws.

“Tempting,” PandaBubba retorts, Jack’s grin widening in response. The stout man seems to think on it, raising a hand to rub his chin. His eyes wander a moment, then return to Jack. “But I’ll pass,” decides PB, dropping the limb.

“ _Huh?_ ” Jack gapes at him, arms swiftly dropping to his sides in utter let-down.

“My interests lie in the ruling of Hong Kong, not the world,” PandaBubba simply replies.

A frustrated sigh escapes Jack’s lips, him saying “fine, fine” whilst waving a dismissive hand at the mob boss. The redhead leans on the railing again, propping an elbow on it and dropping his cheek into the hand. Pouting sourly, he eyes the brain-dead floor below.

Well, it isn’t like he was going to be a loyal partner anyways, something he’s sure goes both ways. Just like last time, it would be a game of “who betrays who first”. Too bad he lost the first time around… but hey, at least he fooled those Xiaolin Losers that day. Jack can still remember – clearly – Surfer Boy’s outrage at his fellow losers choosing Jack over him.

The recollection turns his frown upside down. He’s positively smiling, red eyes lazily roaming over row after row of brain-dead workers.

It really was stupid on their part. Trusting _him_ over their own friend/teammate? His ensuing chuckle can never be dark enough, though it does echo lowly in the large room.

If it’d been him, he would have done the polar opposite, or better yet: _pretend_ to go along with it.

Nonetheless, it’s a moot thought, he knows, if intensely amusing. He has no friends to speak of. Never did.

Not that he's looking, either, or anything.

Yet his mood is going South again with the current musing. What was once a smile is now a neutral line. So he turns his head in his hand to look at the awesome, new, state-of-the-art Koi-Bots he now has thanks to the trade with PandaBubba. His previous expression returns with vigor.

He can’t wait to take them apart and study their internals, so he can make his own improvements. A tweak here, a tune-up there, and he’ll be ready for the replication process. The very concept fills him with gleeful excitement. Then he’ll _never_ –

Is that food he smells?

Lifting his head from his palm, Jack turns to look in PB’s direction. Sure enough, there’s a zombified worker standing next to PandaBubba, holding a tray bearing one burger and soft drink. Yet PandaBubba makes no move for the meal. His focus is still zeroed in on the idiot workers doing his bidding down below…

Well, he’d eat it if the crime boss isn’t going to; Jack hasn’t eaten anything since leaving his home for the Zom-Bone. Of which he blames a certain absent wench.

“Hey, PB,” calls Jack, not earning the man’s gaze, “you gonna eat that?”

“No, I’m a vegetarian,” replies PandaBubba. The content smile on his face changes not in the least.

Jack deadpans at the answer. Then why did he even order the worker to bring it – for the _smell?_

His red eyes narrow, frowning sourly at PandaBubba. “O- _kay_ , well–“

“PandaBubba! Stop this!”

The loud voice comes from the direction of Jack’s original entrance. PandaBubba turns to regard the person. Jack walks up behind his evil company, peering over the PandaBubba’s shoulder.

There’s a rather short, older man walking towards them. His dress is casual, upper-wear consisting of a grey shirt underneath a yellow button-up one. An orange happy-face lies in the center of his undershirt, belted brown slacks and shoes making up the rest of four-eye’s outfit.

Jack’s brow raises incredulously at the sight of him.

“These workers are my loyal employees,” stresses the man, coming to a stop before PandaBubba. Falser words have never been spoken before the evil genius. He almost laughs out loud, but Jack manages to get a hand over his mouth on time, sticking to restrained snickers instead. He merely moves to lean against the railing and watch things play out.

“No, they are now MY loyal employees!” rebukes PandaBubba.

PandaBubba’s attention then goes to the enslaved worker next to himself. Orders are once again barked out, the worker proceeding to get down on all fours. The redhead’s features scrunch up in annoyance, watching the food sloppily fall to the metal platform’s floor. Then the worker _roll_ _s_ _over it_ like some kind of human rolling pin. By the time PandaBubba orders the man to play dead, Jack’s eyes are glued to him in a harsh, withering glare.

He’s more convinced than ever of it: The food was meant to tick him off. In fact, had he gotten to ask, Jack is one-hundred percent certain he’d have gotten a _no –_ all without even a single glance in his direction.

“You lied to me about who you were,” Manager Dude bitterly replies, reproachful. The forced doings of his “loyal” employee seems to have irked him greatly. “If I had known that you were the infamous PandaBubba, I never would have let you into my company.”

“ _Your_ company,” PandaBubba mocks in the form of false query. He’s laughing in the next instance, a sinister smoothness to the noise that tells of an impending end.

‘ _Aaaaaaaaaaaaannnnd,_ ’ awaits Jack.

The moment his laugh ends, PandaBubba thrusts out his arm, pointing the Wu straight at Manager Dude. Its name leaves the mob boss’ lips and the artifact opens once more, yellow energy shooting out from its glowing innards before Manager Dude can even facially react.

In no time, PandaBubba has yet another mindless, moaning, dead-eyed servant.

Right on schedule.

“Now, where’s my coffee drink?” demands PandaBubba of his newest addition. The now-groaning man turns and walks off, feet dragging a measure.

Seeing as this was the end of the brief confrontation, Jack let his eyes wander. To the side his red orbs trail. They go past a set of double doors. No sooner than they pass do his eyes perform a double-take just in time to see one door shut.

Jack stares at the entrance, head quirking, wondering if he just imagined that. His brows draw together, but he decides to ignore it. After all, this is PandaBubba’s operation, not his. He probably did just imagine it anyways.

Mentally waving it off, his eyes go back down to the lower level. His expression dulls considerably at the familiar sight of workers working robotically at conveyor belts.

“Well, this has been fun, PB, but I’ll be on my way now. Evil plans to act upon and all.”

“Very well, Spicer.”

The reply is directed down below, PandaBubba’s eyes never leaving his work force. Clearly, he is still bathing in the glory of his evil machinations paying off.

“Right,” Jack mutters to himself, walking past the broad man. His new bots follow behind.

As soon as he begins to open one of the double doors, though, the self-proclaimed evil genius suddenly remembers that he has no clue where to go to leave this place. Loud and gruff is the groan that escapes his lips, Jack shoving the door open and stalking his way out, preparing himself for another bout of senseless wandering.

Maybe if he found Manager Dude, he could ask him which way to go. _‘Then again, would that even work now that he’s technically a mindless zombie…?’_

Probably not, and he severely doubts that he'll be able to find the damn guy in this mess of a skyscraper anyways.

After what seems like an hour of hopeful turns and openings of random doors, Jack stumbles upon a staircase. A new floor seems rather enticing, and he goes down them. He passes by a number of enslaved workers on his way down, not counting the floors going by. Seeing them makes him think of Pandabubba. Which only serves to remind him that it’s all that panda cosplaying freak’s fault that he’s in this stupid situation, leading to further aggravation.

Exiting the stairwell, Jack makes his way down _yet another_ teal hallway. And he can’t help but wonder, again, just why the heck they _had_ to meet up in that damn room. If they’d met at the entrance, it would have been quicker. If they’d met in the back, it would have been quicker. Hell, if they’d met _on the roof, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN QUICKER_. There was _no reason_ for them to _have_ to–

A muffled yell has his ears twitch, the mild familiarity of the voice earning his head’s lean in the direction. He hears it again, this time placing it as Manager Dude. Jack immediately runs down the hallway, making a right turn and continuing down the new path. Another T-junction is upcoming. He’s just about at it when he hears _another_ voice – one that he doesn’t need _any_ time to recognize.

“Papa, I’m not leaving without an explanation!”

That is Kimiko. Distraught as she may sound, Jack is swift in pressing himself against a wall. Inch by inch, he makes his way towards the T-intersection of the hallway, feet sliding quietly upon the floor. When at it, he sluggishly peers around the corner.

A nearby door is open, Jack hearing indiscernible speech emanate from the room. Last he saw, though, all the monks were together. Meaning it's more than likely that the other losers in training are in there.

‘ _Man, can’t I **ever** catch a break?’_ complains the evil genius, getting angry at this new annoying turn of events. _‘What the_ heck _are these losers even doing here anyways?’_

More yelling causes him to pull back a bit, a lone, wide red eye remaining in watch.

“I want you all out of here now!” yells MD’s voice, whom he now knows to be Kimiko’s father. Still, though, the actual dots take time to register and fully connect, Jack’s brows drawing inward whilst he keeps an eye on the open doorway.

Upon making the connection, however, the realization strikes Jack, eyes widening again.

That's why the name Tohomiko had seemed so familiar: It’s Kimiko’s last name! To think that her father is – _was_ the owner of this gigantic company… What a surprise. Then again, she is rather tech-savvy, so he supposes it makes sense.

“ _ **GO!”**_

The demand is so harsh, so loud, that it actually echoes down the hall Jack is in. He can’t help but grimace; however, the thought of it having been directed straight at the Dragon of Fire curls his lips despite his tightly shut eyes. He snickers whilst re-opening them.

 _Finally_ it’s not _him_ on the receiving end. It’s about time someone else has their sense of hearing destroyed. Maybe he can’t see it, but hearing is believing, too, and boy did he ever hear it. In fact, he keeps a wide open ear just in case another comes along.

His auditory effort is quickly cut short by footsteps approaching the room’s open doorway. He blinks owlishly, frowning dully. But the moment one spec of a loser is in view, Jack’s head pulls back behind cover.

He hears them walk out of the room, a distinct close of the door sounding. He’s ready to bolt should they walk in his direction. Pale fingers tap on the wall he’s plastered to, Jack counting the seconds on one hand before deciding to ever slowly peak around the corner again.

The sight of their slumped shoulders has him smirking crookedly, one sharp row of teeth showing. His orbs rush toward the target of Mr. T’s aggression, his smile widening even further in preparation. His lips twitch upward at both ends upon sighting her.

The look ever-slowly rescinds. Despite himself, his lips close together, coming to form a thin line as his eyebrows raise.

Kimiko is… crying. _Kimiko_ , the feisty, fiery tempered, strong-willed Dragon of Fire. The others surround her miserable form, Kimiko’s head lower than the rest as she took large, watery interest in the floor tiles.

She raises a hand after a more than obvious failed attempt at holding back a sob, Jack’s brows coming together. He frowns when Kimiko's hand flies to her face to cover her eyes, the girl's jaw visibly clenching. Then her chin scrunches, and the tears manage to pass her hand; a pitiful noise lodges in her throat in some sad form of a hiccup.

Twenty Gallons and Surfer Boy put a hand on a shoulder of hers each. Omi approaches her front.

By then, Jack’s expression is all but snarling. Jack fists his hands, trying to clench them harder than the feeling in his chest. Trying to scowl harder, if he can. Yet it is the tiled floor that his eyes look to, a frown pulling hard at the corner of his lips. He's still got his nose scrunched up a measure, managing to clutch onto what he can of his pitch black heart that doesn't at all feel like it's trying to regain color while twisting into a tight knot.

The return of Jack's gaze to Kimiko is slow-going, and his expression sours a measure as he sees Omi gently pulling her hand away. Cueball's sad sympathy for his fellow loser goes unnoticed, however, as her eyes are shut tight.

By then, Jack has had enough of the hurt in her expression. His chest actually _squeezes_ , if that’s even **possible** _–_ which it _**shouldn’t** _ – and Jack turns on his heel to get the heck out of this place.

Omi starts speaking to her – something about evil being afoot – but Jack is unable to catch much of it with the brisk pace he's moving at. Despite his larger steps, the bots have little trouble keeping up in relative silence, though the gentle thrums of their jet engines fail to improve his mood.

Once again, his state of mind has gone South, only this time it’s gone all the freaking way to the damn _Pole_. Which is completely unfair on account of none of this being his fault. It’s _their_ fault for not getting the Wu. Isn’t that their loser goal? Get the Wu and prevent however many years of darkness? Well if they’d been paying attention instead of falling for the same old tricks, maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation – that he's got _nothing_ to do with, might he add.

Seriously, how many times are simple diversions going to cut it? He might as well just start using dummies. Movement seems to be the key factor, nevermind weaponry.

Besides, he isn’t even the one using the Zom-Bone. It’s _PandaBubba_. And there you go. Not his fault.

… Yet the unpleasant feeling in Jack's chest persists. If anything, it feels like it’s getting _worse_.

‘ _What the hell?_ ’ grouses Jack, sullenly. Frustration brings a rumbling growl from his throat, the noise lodging there for a moment.

Why did he have to see that for? Why couldn’t he just stumble upon an exit of _any_ kind and leave the place with his amazing new bots, remaining ignorant of the traumatic experience he maybe caused the girl to go through?

Jack groans in exasperation, adding a facepalm into the mix. Somehow, that actually sounds worse, though he can’t exactly place why. He lowers his hand, going back to an acidic glare aimed ahead.

Okay, _fine_ , it is his fault. He’s evil, though, so what the heck does he care? If anything, this is just another accolade to slap on the evil resume – qualifications that, of course, are growing with each passing day.

Only… this addition isn’t bringing happiness. The aching beat in his chest solidifies it, and his shoulders slump as he truly thinks on it...

Kimiko never would have gone through any of that if he hadn’t made the trade with PandaBubba. Seeing her cry with a sorrow that only familial issues could lower one to hadn’t brought him the least bit of joy. If he wanted to mess with them on such a personal level, Jack could have done so many times already. There are certainly options available to him, particularly in Texas, but he’s got better things to do than trashing families. Non-goodness knows he’s had enough of that crap in his life.

So he’s rather alright with the lack of glee that has come from seeing Kimiko drowning in such sorrow. Pretty okay, actually... He’s _definitely_ evil – _**no doubt about it**_ – but… that’s not his.

His arms cross, shoulders rising a measure. Jack’s eyes cast downward in dull thought as his walk slows.

While guilt-inducing, the sighting of Kimiko crying is also odd. Mystifying, really, since – as far as he knows – she never cries. Anger always seemed to be her go-to emotion. He may not know her or any of the monks _that_ well, but he knows for certain that Kimiko is one tough cookie. A cookie that cracks and melts every tooth in your mouth before the bite can even be attempted.

He snickers at the thought, a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. It’s a brief change in his expression, though, Jack’s continuing thoughts bringing back a frowning consideration.

For her to cry like that because of her father, they have to have something akin to a positive relationship. That brings a different feeling to his chest. One that wraps its envious claws around his already-black heart, bringing a new negative emotion: jealousy. He wishes he could have something even remotely in that general ballpark with either of his own parents.

It’s a horrendously idiotic sentiment, however. The boy’s shoulder slump again, this time going all the way down. His head follows suit, if for a moment, the boy genius grunting and shaking his head in an attempt to shake off the thoughts and emotions.

He forces his head up high, wiping angrily at his eyes. Once more he shakes his head, this time shoving those thoughts back down the trench of his brain.

His slowing walk finally comes to a complete pause. Through Jack’s parting lips passes a resigned sigh.

This is going to feel all sorts of odd. There’s an unfamiliar warmth replacing the dread in his pores, and he’s not so sure he welcomes it, but it’s better than the previous feeling, and he decides to roll with it. Even if he is technically going to be doing something without an ulterior motive.

Jack turns to the upgraded Koi-Bot closest to him.

‘ _Well, hopefully this works. If the AI is anything like my old model’s, it should.’_

He jabs a finger at the robot. “ _You._ Retrace our journey back to where we were before leaving PandaBubba.” His order is met with a low series of beeps, the Koi-Bot’s red eyes glowing a brighter red momentarily. To his relief, it begins to move ahead of him, complying with his command. The evil genius smiles, satisfied while he follows it in front of the other three bots.

‘ _Well, it’s not like anyone’s gonna find out about this,’_ Jack reasons. _‘Not if I can help it anyways.’_

Jack has a reputation to uphold after all. The prospect of ruining his evil career is now all too real. Evildoers just don’t do things like this. It’s as much a fact as PandaBubba’s shortsightedness. And he is NOT, may he repeat, _NOT_ a goody-good hero. In no way is _this_ evil genius into running around in some sorry excuse for a bathrobe while barfing all over the place because of a _constantly undulating_ _ **dragon-ride**_.

NO. _Hell no_. Evil to the max, baby! The rules are his to make, limitations nowhere in sight. He can play the game however he sees fit: no rules or regulations. Plus, he has the look down rather well, if he says so himself – which he totally does.

 _Neutral_ is even preferable to good. Largely. At least then he’d have all the time in the world to work on his robots. Not to mention the end it would bring to his _constant_ repairs done to _everything_. There are some really swell ideas that he’s continuously having to post-pone due to that last detail.

‘ _Meh, I guess I can go that route when evil loses its amusement,’_ Jack considers, shrugging a shoulder. He snorts, though, thinking in utter doubt, _‘If that’s even possible.’_

Unlikely as it seems, though, it’s still good to have a back-up plan, just in case. After all, it’s important to keep your options open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite posted on 2/23/2018.


	2. Chapter 2

“Outta my way, moron!”

With an irritated sneer, Jack shoves past a zombie worker that his guiding Koi-Bot just went around as they make their way back up to the twentieth floor. The three bots behind him quickly move to the side of the stairwell, allowing the man’s tumbling descent to go by alongside once-held stolen technological goods.

Jack pauses in his ascension, turning with a wicked grin to watch the falling ruckus. He does so for as long as possible, only turning to continue up the stairs when the poor sap is no longer in sight, though he can still hear the loud clanks of metal, dull and muffled as they’re getting.

Jack’s feeling of evil supremacy doesn’t last, though.

The previous warmth is slowly squelching his evilness underneath its permeating force, but at least that _bubbly_ feel is gone. It had been an entirely unwelcome shift in emotion, and no matter how often he tried to remind himself that he's still very much the _evil_ genius he has always been, it wouldn’t leave him. More specifically, it refused to leave the pit of his stomach.

However, while his most recent dastardly act did fix it, Jack can feel the bubbles trying to return. Worse than the feeling itself, though, is that it’s not entirely unpleasant.

So, in the interest of curing his first ever case of Omi-itis, Jack hastily tries to think of any and all possible evil justifications for his current course of action.

An effort in no sense.

First of all, he owes PandaBubba a backstabbing. The conclusion to their last scuffle is still relatively fresh in his mind, and Jack is not about to let the scoreboard remain as is. This is long overdo, and since the crime boss likely thinks him to be long gone, right now is the perfect time to strike. The short-sighted moron will never see it coming.

Then there’s that ridiculous meeting location. It was without a doubt chosen specifically to annoy him. It’s no wonder PandaBubba hung up on him so abruptly after naming it on the phone: He saw the question coming. Heck, the panda-freak probably planned the whole thing out prior to calling!

An angry growl lodges in Jack’s throat at the thought. He grunts at the end of it, however, chuckling instead with a beginning curl to his lips. His hands fist, head titling down.

He’s an evil mastermind! What reason can he possibly need other than the irate expression PandaBubba will soon wear when he inevitably succumbs to, ‘ _the evil magnificence of… Jack Spicer!’_

The victory will be so utterly _sweet_ , too. Not only will he have his revenge, but he’ll still get new, amazing bots out of the whole ordeal – _from_ the crime boss himself. All free of charge.

Jack rubs his hands together with nefarious glee, snickering at the prospect.

Now exiting the stairwell, Jack can’t help but feel particularly dastardly, following his Koi-Bot down a familiar teal hallway. The goth can practically feel the evil flowing through his veins.

Plus, he’s now in possession of three perfectly evil excuses to give as reasons.

‘ _Not that I’m gonna get caught,’_ he proclaims, ignoring an enslaved worker passing by.

This is a black-op. No one – _especially Omi_ – will ever be finding out about this. He can already see Cheddar Head’s reaction: “Oh, Jack Spicer, I always knew you would eventually reject the ways of evil and observe the rays!”

The cueball will say it in his usual happy voice, too, and probably _hug him_ while saying it. Then he or one of the monks will end up correcting Chrome Dome, telling him it’s “ _see the light_ ”.

A chill runs all the way down Jack’s spine. He shudders at the thought.

Nope, _definitely_ not getting caught….

Assuming he succeeds, anyways.

He immediately both pauses mid-walk and raises a brow sky-high. A light shake of his head passes in mild incredulity, right eye narrowing. _‘Of course I’ll succeed,’_ counters Jack in no short amount of evil confidence, resuming his walk. A sinister smirk forms, the red in Jack’s eyes darkening. _‘I’m_ _ **Jack Spicer!**_ _Evil Genius, Prince of Darkness!’_

There isn’t anything to worry about! _‘Those losers don’t even know where PandaBubba_ is _, let alone what’s actually going on here.’_ Add in the building’s enormity, and, well, he might as well laugh out loud. Even if the idiots came up with the great idea of splitting off into bigger losers, it will still take half a Wuya-lifetime for them to find Pandabubba.

When the zombie aspect hits him, Jack bursts into a cruel laughing fit, stopping to lightly double over. An arm raises, going across his stomach. He clutches the hand on his side, standing straight and lifting his head to send the echoing noise toward the ceiling.

His walk toward inevitable revenge continues, bots once again moving as well.

“Hey,” Jack calls to his leading robot, stifling his remaining chuckles as best he can, “how much longer’s this gonna take?”

“Estimation: three minutes, sir,” returns the guiding bot.

Jack blinks, raising a hand to his mouth during a final bout of light chuckling. His head tilts, eyes focusing curiously upon the bot’s rear. He hums to himself.

The voice held a momentary stark familiarity to that of his very own automatons. Brief as the shift in its monotone was, he’d recognize his Jack-Bot’s anywhere, anytime, any-age. Which was a weird thing to hear, because those parts are custom, as with the rest of his creations. Completely and, most importantly, _**only**_ his.

Nonetheless, his smile can’t rescind.

It’s just another thing for him to figure out later.

Jack waves it off in his good mood, figuring he’ll just check it when he gets back home from enacting his revenge on a particularly short-sighted panda.

Omi-itis cured, Jack chooses to imagine the fury PandaBubba will no doubt display when his evil scheme is shred to pieces. The good times roll in his head for the rest of the walk, the evil boy genius coming to a stop right as he begins to picture PB with the same expression currently worn by the workers.

Snorting quietly through his nose, Jack takes in the same set of doors, fully intending to ignore their message. His humor ebbs. He frowns in consideration, biting his lip.

Will the mob boss still be there, smiling with menacing glee as his slaves did his bidding?

Laying a gloved hand on the push-pad of the left door, Jack gently pushes. The pad hits its stopping point, his push pausing before it resumes in equal care. The door opens sluggishly, Jack stopping when the crack is just large enough to partially pop his head through.

His peek deadpans.

… Apparently so, because there the man is, looking as if he just accomplished _world_ domination. Though Jack isn't particularly surprised, PandaBubba did just go from short-sighted to full fledged eye-failure, so he feels it necessary to let his unimpressed stare linger.

There is reveling in your moment of triumph, and then there's _this_. What _this_ is, he’s never been able to fathom in any regard other than some form of health issues; because whatever it is, there’s back-up.

The vision-less mob boss is managing to make things too easy – even for him. And that isn’t saying something.

His eyes widen with terrible realization. He inches his head out of the crack in the door, the sole peeking eye keeping its pupil focused on PandaBubba until hidden.

There isn't a plan.

Jack lets out a muted groan behind the door, head lowering between his shoulders. Ever since making the decision to fix this whole stupid situation, he’s not once thought on just _how_ , exactly, he would be getting the damn Wu back. Silently the evil boy genius curses to himself.

‘ _Eh, a_ _plan in progress,_ ’ he gruffly excuses, opening the door a little more so he can see the clueless mobster.

‘ _Well, he does look pretty preoccupied,’_ the young teenager observes. Even the man’s facial expression is essentially the same. Sneaking up on Pandabubba and snatching the Wu from his large, grubby hands will probably work. It’s even held on the side of him facing Jack.

There’s just one tiny problem with the idea…

Jack looks to the door he’s holding open, grimacing. When the thing closes, PB might hear it.

Steadily, Jack starts closing the door, a hand flat on it. He does so until it’s just barely shut, the door jam an inch from its socket. In a hurry he begins to helplessly search around for anything that could be used to jam the door open. Seconds are all it takes for anxiety to rear its ugly head.. All it will take is one glance in his direction for him to be busted.

The concept of being made worries Jack enough for him to crack the door open for a quick, reassuring peek. One, then two double-takes pass by, the boy genius tapping impatient fingers on his upper thigh.

Just when he’s got the door re-almost-shut again, a random shout comes from the room, causing Jack to nearly leap out of his skin. For just a second there, he’s on the tips of his toes, posture stiff and utterly straightened out. Fortunately, not a peep comes from going through the embarrassing motion.

Checking on the status of his obscurity reveals no change in Pandabubba’s form. Jack lets out a silent, relieved sigh, exhaling a lengthy breath. He does so off to the side, looking in the direction of a Koi-Bot. He’s about to look away, but jerks his head back in the robot’s direction instead, eyes looking at the few long, curved fangs in its mouth.

The self-proclaimed evil genius waves it over to him, an index finger over his lips all the while. When its close enough, his palm raises, signaling the robot’s swift halting. Jack leans near the fish-like robot’s gaping jaws, eyeing one of the two larger frontal fangs.

‘ _Looks big enough,’_ Jack thinks, if somewhat optimistically.

How to remove it, though…

He runs a thumb over its white surface in thought, frowning as nothing comes to him. His lips pull further down, though, as he begins to take note of the tooth’s texture, brows knitting in confusion.

That does _not_ feel like metal. Years of working with his automatons made it exceedingly simple to tell the difference between _plastic_ and _metal_.

Fingers wrapping around the tooth, Jack gets a good grip on it. He tugs experimentally, periodically adding force to the pull. Little more effort ends up being required, however, the pointy object soon pulling free with a low and quick _**pop**_ that suggests it’d been glued in place

He raises the lengthy fang to his face, red eyes narrowing. His frown broadens in dissatisfaction at both the material and the way in which it had been connected.

However, he’s sort of in a rush, so the goth just shrugs, opens the door fully, and silently wedges the removed tooth underneath it. Despite the situation, he still finds meager time to smirk in devious delight at his resourcefulness.

Following that positively negative moment, Jack motions for his bots to follow, tiptoeing towards the target of his justly unjust betrayal. He sticks to the left end of the platform, opposite to the side PandaBubba is standing on whilst looking over the railing at his brain-dead minions. Even now, a malicious smirk is plastered to the panda-freak’s face.

Vaguely, it occurs to Jack that right now would be the very worst time for those Xiaolin Losers to come bursting through one of the entrances, ready to save the day. The disturbing thought process is swiftly banished.

Soon enough, he’s crouched right behind the mob boss, sticky fingers twitching whilst Jack nervously cycles between eyeing the Zom-Bone within PandaBubba’s hold and the back of said person’s head.

Ever slowly, his right hand reaches for the Wu. One final glance at the man’s head is taken.

The swipe is swift, PandaBubba letting out a surprised grunt as his body jerks toward the redhead. Unfortunately, though, little else is accomplished, even when Jack hurriedly grabs with another hand and attempts once more to rip the Wu straight out of the man’s hand.

‘ _Oh come on...’_ Jack whines in exasperation, glowering at the now-glowing Wu still tightly held by PandaBubba’s sharp-nailed hand. His eyes are glued to the artifact, refusing to look up at PB’s sure-to-be-glaring face.

It’s just his luck. Of course the guy would be holding the Wu in a damn iron grip.

“What is the meaning of this, Spicer?” The query is angry, demanding. Though there is a hint of lingering surprise laced into his tone.

Well, there’s only one thing to do now. Good thing he has state-of-the-art robots with him. Jack just hopes there aren’t any other cut corners in their design that he doesn’t know about.

He breathes in a shallow, quick breath, exhaling it in the same fashion. His one hand leaves the artifact to fist at his side, Jack’s evil smirk falling into place whilst his gaze lifts to regard PandaBubba’s enraged glare.

“You didn’t think I forgot about your little betrayal last time, did you, PB? Well it’s payback time, baby!” Jack ends in declaration, raising his fist to point a finger at the other villain. “I challenge you to a Xiaolin Showdown!”

PandaBubba growls low, eyes narrowing dangerously at the darkly garbed evil genius. “Very well.”

Jack has to admit, the guy has one heck of a glare. Not that it’s working or anything. Just an observation. That he maybe wishes to be further from.

Wait, what? He _accepted_?

“Really?” Jack blurts in surprise. “But you don’t have any–“

His speech is cut off by the man reaching within his suit, grinning darkly at the evil boy genius. PandaBubba pulls out a large, dark cloth. The Shroud of Shadows.

Jack’s mouth falls open. Disbelieving, he gawks at the Wu. “Wha– why do– _how did_ you–“ the teen stammers. It’s PandaBubba’s turn to smirk, sinister triumph glowing in the man’s black eyes.

Aggravated acceptance, though, soon replaces confusion. ‘ _Xiaolin_ Losers _,’_ Jack reminds himself.

“Forget it, I don’t even wanna know,” states Jack, utterly fed up with his luck today… and just about every other one.

The redhead reaches into his trench coat, digging around for just a moment before producing his favorite Shen Gong Wu of them all, the sight of the staff bringing back Jack’s evil smirk. Jack directs the look at PandaBubba. Their eyes meet. Jack’s eyebrows pull down and together, his grin becoming toothy.

Pandabubba growls in response, eyes narrowing. His smirk rescinds somewhat, annoyed wrinkles forming on the man’s nose.

Jack’s smirk only widens in amusement.

“My Monkey Staff against your Shroud of Shadows; the game is Goo Zombies Survival!”

Subsequently, the golden hue permeating along the Zom-Bone begins to brighten, making both contenders shut and shield their eyes from its ever-growing glow. The light encapsulates them, both Heylin shouting in unison, “Let’s go! Xiaolin Showdown!”

The revolving glow bloats outward, also capturing the bots in its ever-blinding light. It shines brighter yet, dissolving the yellow hue into a pure white. Finally it explodes, teleporting all in its grasp into a portable game system lying on the floor of the lower level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite posted on 2/24/2018.


	3. Chapter 3

‘ _I won?_ ’

His wide stare doesn’t leave the Wu in his arms, even as the world around him and his adversary spins back into its previous setting. A wild array of colors blur by, flashes signaling the setting’s eminent return to normal.

He shakes his head, thinking, _‘I mean, of course I won.’_ The feel of victory is admittedly strange after such a long line of losses. But he isn’t going to dwell on that particular downer.

‘ _No, we’ve got_ much _better things to think about,’_ reconsiders Jack, turning a shallow grin behind himself. His lips pull apart at the sight of PandaBubba attempting to sneak off.

He positively smirks, a sinister delight building at his fellow Heylin’s tippy-toe pace. The evil boy genius pockets two artifacts, keeping one in-hand. Jack thrusts out the hand, calling out, “Zing Zom-Bone!”

PandaBubba’s back tenses visibly the moment he speaks, the mob boss breaking into a mad dash without even a glance behind. But the Wu is quicker, a thick yellow blast of energy rushing after him. Its approaching tip breaks off into a few smaller tendrils, the flowing arms curling inward.

With but a single look back, PandaBubba’s eyes bug out even more for just a moment. A shriek dies on his tongue as the energy hits him, its tendrils wrapping around him and encapsulating him in a revolving yellow glow.

Mist clearing, Pandabubba is left standing with a slouch to his posture, a familiar dull groan rumbling from him. He turns toward Jack, revealing a gaping mouth already trailing drool. Wide open eyes bearing no real focus look in the goth’s general direction.

Jack can’t help it. He bursts into evil cackles at the vision-less crime boss’ state. The noise escalates into an echoing loudness, Jack leaning on one of his two remaining re-skinned Koi-Bots.

His cackling pauses, Jack’s gaze lingering on the machine next to him. He pops his mouth shut into a neutral line that doesn’t last. He glares hard, anger returning with a vengeance. Fists form at his sides while the evil boy genius turns to regard PandaBubba’s idiotic form. The unchanging stupid look on his face does nothing to lessen Jack’s piercing gaze. An impressive line of drool hangs from that gaping mouth, and Jack considers swatting it off.

He reaches into his trench coat, gripping the Monkey Staff. But metallic taps on the metal platform catch his attention. Jack turns in a hurry, keeping hold of the staff just in case.

 _‘Manager Dude...’_ Jack recognizes, turning bodily to take in the man. However, his eyes swiftly dart down at the new addition to the guy’s outfit. He’s able to restrain laughing outright at the pink apron, though his lips still curl, loosing cracking snickers.

The mindless man walks up to him, a tray of but one coffee drink in-hand. Jack instead eyes that, raising a hand to muffle his chuckling. Sniffing, Jack contains his laughter, placing a fist on his hip whilst looking at the drink.

Whatever kind it is, the coffee smells delicious. His other hand raises, palm up, the boy genius tossing the Wu upward. He catches it, repeating the motion as his eyes trail up to the man’s face, snickering at the passing pinkness.

“Well, what’d ya say Mister… T...?” His humor-laced question dies into slow recollection, preventing his planned follow-up trade offer. His narrow eyes lose their starting thoughtfulness, suddenly popping wide open.

‘ _Kimiko’s dad!_ ’ shouts the important, deadly detail through his thoughts.

 _Crap_ – what the _heck is he doing!?_ The Showdown had gone on for a while, and it's more than likely that those losers are going to rear their annoying heads any moment now, and the _**last**_ _thing_ he needs is them ( _her)_ seeing things as they are right now. And considering _his_ luck–

He needs to hurry.

“Zing Zom-Bone!” shouts Jack, pointing the artifact at the man after the fact. He watches the yellow mist wind around the older man, seriously wishing it would _hurry up_ so he can **scram** already.

He taps his foot impatiently as the energy continues to revolve the man. The rate of tapping goes up with each passing second, Jack snatching the coffee drink from the tray. Kimiko’s father hunches over on a less dead groan. The evil boy genius meanwhile gulps down the brown liquid.

‘ _Oh yeah, cappuccino,_ ’ delights Jack, grinning. His eyes dart down at the warm brown fluid for just a moment, rolling up in time to see the man’s eyes gain focus. The company owner’s groan turns confused, Mr. T raising a hand from the bottom of his tray to rub his head.

“What happened?” moans out the man. He looks to the tray in his hand with lost bewilderment, eyes narrowing at it. However, Jack’s just finished most of his coffee, and is feeling well enough awakened.

The cup is brought down upon the tray, hard, Mr. Tohomiko jerking back in surprise.

“Ahh,” comes Jack’s satisfied exhale. His arm lifts to wipe a sleeve along his mouth, blinking at the man’s wide-eyed stare. Dropping the arm, he says, “Tell you what: You like Zombies, right?”

Jack’s query is accompanied by a hand going on the side of the man’s tray. The company owner’s eyes lower just in time to view Jack harshly swipe the thing straight out of his hands, sending it and the coffee on a lengthy, messy journey to the bottom level.

Mr. Tohomiko’s shocked eyes follow the tray for the barest moment, closing tightly when Jack shoves the Wu into his chest. The man haphazardly grips at the forcibly given item. Jack scowls right as the man’s eyes re-open to look at the item.

“Knock yourself out,” jeers Jack, throwing a gloved hand out to the side.

With that, he turns on his heel, the serrated ends of his trench coat audibly swaying. Jack wastes not a second to begin his striding walk, making for the exit with his remaining two bots in-tow. He’s more than ready to put this day far, FAR behind him. And now that the Wu is no longer in his possession, _no one_ will **ever** know…

Jack’s walk abruptly pauses mid-step, arms stopping in their swaying tracks whilst his eyes widen. Slowly, Jack starts to scowl. A loud growl of frustration rumbles in his throat, the evil genius pivoting around and thrusting a threatening finger at the still-perturbed man.

“ _You didn’t see me!”_ Jack seethes venomously.

His sharp reds are met with a hasty succession of nods, earning the man a satisfied smirk from Jack. The man’s daughter definitely wouldn’t like him scaring her father, but said father is no longer a brain-dead lackey, and there aren’t really any points to lose anyways.

Most importantly, the guilt is gone. Misplaced as it had been.

Pivoting back around, the evil genius continues to the double doors, fish-like bots trailing behind once again. He shoves one door’s push-pad, sending it flying open and continues out the doorway. Without a care, Jack starts to whistle a tune, hands going into his trench coat pockets.

‘ _What a ride,_ ’ thinks Jack neutrally.

Today has been nothing short of a roller-coaster. A series of ups and downs for sure, but in the face of telling off Wuya and ruining PandaBubba’s otherwise successful plans, he’s feeling rather chipper. Sure, he’s gotten no new bots out of the ordeal; however, he _has_ gained a Shen Gong Wu.

All in all, it’s been a pretty good day.

 

 

* * *

 

All in all, it’s been a pretty disastrous day. And whom does he have to spend the rest of his newly-acquired plant-life with?

Vlad.

The moronic Russian of the Heylin whom came with plans of taking over the world via the Heylin Seed. The sneaky hooligan had even proposed they make a TV series after their inevitable conquering of the world. _That_ was the deal sealer. And it was an entirely dirty tactic – he gives the ugly brute that much.

However, like just about every other scheme as of late, success has been far from achieved, reality TV series but a distant dream. No, in its place is Jack’s current cacti form, small spikes jutting out from all over his new self. Beside him sprouts Vlad with his very own matching red flower pot. Aligned legs are now stiff and wooden, the Russian’s upper body consisting of pink leaves. Branches make up his arms; and on each hand is a rotund bunch of leaves, numerous yellow flowers blooming from them.

Fortunately, Jack’s newest robotic venture managed to scare off Gigi with its dual flame-thrower armament. With but one healthy spray of napalm, the traitorous plant high-tailed it straight over the surrounding wall of his property.

Jack's two last-remaining Jack-bots are still putting out the flames.

He’s still relieved the prototype’s malfunction and subsequent systems failure came _after_ his enemy left.

Vlad turns his bushy maw in Jack’s direction, exposing a look that makes it apparent he is ignoring these very real pros of their situation. Jack returns the angry look with a spiky glare of his own.

‘ _At least he’s gone you ungr–‘_

“I should have known better than come to _you_ for help,” states Vlad. Angered accusation lines every word.

Oh, of course. When in doubt, blame him. Forget all details and just jump _straight_ to that conclusion.

“ _Me?”_ barks an indignant Jack. What was once a hand goes to Jack’s chest before being thrust out at Vlad’s… person? Fauna? “What did you even _do?_ **Nothing** , that’s what!” One corner of Vlad’s mouth opens into a mild snarl. “We wouldn’t have even gotten that stupid seed if not for _my_ bots, _my_ detector, and _my_ vehicle!”

Vlad snorts without a care before his proved uselessness, air exiting his nostrils like a bull whilst he turns from Jack. “Not surprise, though,” he continues, pink leaves rustling, “since ‘evil genius’ always _Jack_ up everything. Is no wonder Wuya leave you.”

“ _I_ left _her,_ ” seethes the goth, anger spiking as his thorns audibly bristle.

“Dah, _sure,_ ” chuckles out Vlad.

Whatever Jack’s teeth currently are grind against one another so hard that he can taste the chlorophyll in his mouth.

This is _it_ . This is the final straw. Not even two days ago, he’d been stuck as a monkey thanks to one of Chase’s schemes; and already he’s enjoying a fresh, _permanent_ species change.

For the sake of his “ _teeth_ ”, Jack shoves that recollection out of mind. He’s still simmering, though, a hateful glare aimed straight at the useless barbarian next to him.

The downward spiral has officially lost its luster. And with such great company to have along for the impending crash to loss, evil isn’t feeling particularly fun. The very notion has Jack growl in disgust, both at it and Vlad. He’s not sure _which_ is worse at the moment, but at least he doesn’t have to look at that last atrocity, taking full advantage of that silver lining.

It’s just – _everyone_ is terrible company. Not _one_ Heylin can he stand being in shared company with! Every one of them treats him like _second rate_ garbage for evil’s sake!

‘ _Evil! Alliances!_ _Y_ _ou_ _ **morons!**_ ’ stresses Jack. How else are they suppose to beat the Xiaolin LOSERS!? Heck, _they_ are beginning to –

 _Nope_. He is _not_ going there.

But for the first time, he begins to tick them off. One horrendous partner and smelly associate by one.

Even with her absence over the past week, the ugliest of them all is the very first to pierce his psyche, in much the same manner her shrieks do. A bringer of headaches only matched by the ghostly wench’s need for nagging.

‘ _Nag, nag, nag,_ nag, **nag** , _’_ recalls the evil boy genius, the flowers on the ends of his arms closing and re-blooming.

The only thing worse is when she’s doing both _at the same time,_ effectively taking out both auditory and olfactory functions; because _of course_ she’d have breath that could bring a vulture out of the sky.

And kill it.

Jack shudders at the smelly recollection, nose turning up whilst his thorns rustle. Vlad’s curious yet still-agitated look goes ignored.

How that woman hasn’t managed to scream his soul from his being, Jack will never know. She certainly did it enough to have at least made substantial progress by now. After all, their relations are the one thing that matches the legendary stench residing in her ethereal mouth, which is **her** fault. Things had been relatively chummy until she had to go and betray him for Mala. Since then, it’s been a steady drop that plowed through the ground long ago.

Chase Young, though, is a close second hate, if only for the shorter duration the evil boy genius has made the warlord’s acquaintance. Unlike the flying hag, whom manages to get her disdain through with just “boy”, Jack’s evil aspiration took to clearer means: insect. Worse than _monkey_ , for sure, but that’s far from the point.

That is _no way_ to treat an evil boy genius such as himself. The countless cat-warrior attacks on his person only make him doubly happy that his initial goal always has been to eventually turn on _him_. The only problem is that the warlord flat-out scares him to undignified screams…

Then again, so do a number of other things.

Like giant one-eyed creatures of Greek mythical origin.

Cyclops.

Just one of those baths is worthy of mention, but multiple? After just one, his nose was numb for nearly a _week_ in the wake of Cyclops’ powerful stench intermingling with that of the extreme cleaning solutions’. Needless to say, any clothing worn during those horrific spans of time ended up beyond unsalvageable. Fire was the only real recourse. The sole consolation is that he couldn’t smell Wuya’s yells for a time.

Add in an intelligence supposedly lower than Jack’s current idiotic partner-in-crime, alongside one heck of an appalling set of maintenance _in addition to the baths_ – feeding, finding somewhere the beast can **fit** , _toe-nail clipping, cleaning his_ _ **giant messes**_ – and you’ve got a towering red recipe for aggravating failure.

‘ _And a mutinous one at that,’_ Jack scathingly tacks on. The bumbling oaf not only got slobber all over the Wings of Tanabi that day, but body-freaking slapped Jack straight into the ground. And that was their _first_ day together. _And_ the monks saw it.

Still, he’d take that over-sized buffoon over Katnappe any day of the year, the thought of this particular Heylin bringing forth an all-encompassing shudder of pure revulsion. Jack’s pot even rattles from the harsh shake, a few thorns coming loose. Yet another glance of Vlad’s is ignored.

No one breaks into his lab more than Ashley, a fact that led to a vehement dislike for cat-puns. To further the novelty of her break-ins, Wu went missing (stolen) and his inventions are always damaged if not utterly destroyed. Always with the same tell-tale signs: cat litter, paw prints, and the sometimes bonus of a fur ball or three.

She even smells like cat litter. Cat. Litter. Not once has he allowed himself to rationalize it. What he _does_ think on, however, is just why, exactly, the cat-freak _had_ to go and free Wuya from her re-imprisonment within another puzzle box. It’s _Ashley’s_ fault he ever had to further endure the hag’s loathsome presence, nevermind his agreement with said hag to renew the alliance.

‘ _It wouldn’t have even been_ possible _if not for her,’_ reasons Jack.

Jack regrets ever forming any sort of alliance with her, as well as _this_ soviet barbarian. He turns toward the moron with a returning hate-filled glare, teeth showing as his eyes narrow. Jack’s nose turns up at the sight of Vlad taking in his new leafy appearance. It seems a few more flowers have since sprouted on Vlad’s upper body. One does just so on the Russian’s abdomen.

A few seconds pass of nothing new growing on Vlad, Jack simply hating him meanwhile, in both mind and facial expression. However, just when the Heylin’s body looks to be done with its flowering…

It’s amazing how even in this messed up situation, Jack can feel _good_ about anything, but his cacti form suddenly doesn’t seem so bad.

A bouquet of pink and yellow flowers abruptly sprout from the soil in Vlad’s pot. The brute’s eyes widen at them as Jack’s evil grin makes its first appearance since their species change.

‘ _Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.’_

He just chuckles lightly, though, remembering that he’s in the midst of a thought bubble. A giant thought bubble. One with much less… tiring disappointment.

The realization brings a bitter smile to his lips, the teen taking in the singed grounds with little interest.

He’s right back where he started: A life as empty as the house he’s been living in for most of his life. Wuya’s sudden entrance into his life had brought hope. Hope for change. Hope for evil camaraderie, a legit path towards world domination and the respect he ought to get. The only reason Jack betrayed every other Heylin to come by is because he figured it would always be Wuya and him against the world. But instead she turned her back on him the moment he finished assembling Mala. Then she ended up ruling with a wayward Dragon of Wind, Jack having to play some pathetic form of a hero alongside the other monks to have any chance of overthrowing her rule, thus re-opening a place for him on the throne of the world. And things only got worse from then on.

He began finding himself with less and less time to do what he really enjoys: building robots. Repairs started to get more frequent, funds got lower until hitting nigh rock bottom, and all would-be cohorts began to belittle him at every chance. All this on top of his continuous losses are just _tiring_. Add in all these morons sans a jarring gastropod of a ninja, short-sighted panda-freak, and thankfully gone _mime_ – all of which are pests in their own unique right – _‘and, well, things get really disappointing.’_

He’s in a rut. It’s clear as a non-evil day. But it’s a never-ending rut. One that expands with no end. And there’s no way he is _ever, ‘that’s_ _ **ever**_ _,’_ going to go with the other option. He’d never waste his time.

The monks’ opinion of him is well-known. Even if they rank lower on the scoreboard than the Heylin.

Admittedly by a lot, he now realizes.

Jack snorts. He smiles true and genuine, watching his two Jack-bots put out the last-remaining flames left on the expansive front yard. _‘Still, screw that,’_ he decides.

There are other reasons of course. Like screw Surfer Boy, sayonara Twenty Gallons, c’ya Chrome Dome, peace Master Fungus… bye Dojo?

‘ _Eh, he’s alright,’_ concedes the boy with as best a shrug as he can manage. He did try to run Dojo over with his Evil Tranforming Bot in that subway station, so Jack supposes he can forgive the whole getting eaten by Dojo thing. Besides, that was Omi’s fault anyways.

‘Cya _Chrome Dome, and goodbye Kimiko…’_

Oh yeah, that was going to be a great subtraction. Both of them, really. It, like so many other things, is just his luck. On the one hand is a small boy with a somehow mountain-sized ego to match his head that for some sure-to-be-idiotic reason seems to have taken a _liking_ to him. Why the boy is so adamant on him joining the loser crew, Jack will never understand, but it’s _never_ happening. Good is lame – simple as that – and even if it weren’t, that's one out of… four? Five? _Six?_

‘ _Do we count Dojo and Fungus, or...’_ ponders Jack.

Nevertheless, it’s never happening. He’s simply too bad a villain.

Which brings him to the other gloved hand: A girl with a smart (and sometimes equally as hot) head whom manages to have it in the latter state more often than not when she’s near him. He’s no doubt that every fiber of her being resents him, and if that hadn’t been accomplished with his stupid attempts at impressing her during the whole Chameleon-Bot scheme, all his evil deeds that followed since then have certainly done it.

Really, he wouldn’t be surprised if she still held a grudge for him sending Omi back into the past without a way to get him back. Even though it was an honest mistake! _Seriously_ , he’d only been able to go back _two seconds_ before the losers came along with their Eye of Dashi, _so of course nothing ever went past beta-testing!_

So the girl he possibly likes border-line hates him. No biggie. She’s going to have to get in line, though.

‘ _But –_ _evil boy genius here,’_ reasons Jack.

The punch she gave him to the face for her father assures him of it. And _wow_ did she hit hard. He always knew she does, but damn if that time hadn’t been harder. Just further proof of whom is really the strongest, he figured. She’s definitely the scariest, that’s for sure.

How she knows of his presence during her father’s turn to a zombie, he doesn’t know, but, hey, it's a stride in evil nonetheless. The lights-out hit having been the end to a showdown is completely beside the point: His secret was and _is_ kept. What her father told her, Jack also doesn’t know or care so long as that remains true, current change of mind or not.

Because he’ll settle for boy genius _any_ day over…

Yet another audible shudder shakes his plant body. Once again, motions resultant of disgust are running though him. What’s that add to the depressing equation? **STRESS!** Most closely attributed to a back-stabbing, smelly, tentacle-bearing, _screaming_ , _**ugly**_ witch-hag of an apparition.

Sighing, Jack’s eyes wander over toward his vine-covered home. He blinks dully, orbs trailing over the mess covering its entirety whilst his lips thin out.

Being in this place always heightened his awareness of how just alone he really is. Reminds him of how non-existent his relations with his parents are. An absence that began right after Jack’s work on that damned blender. The stupid thing ran fine for about five seconds before malfunctioning and collapsing into pieces in front of everyone at that particular party of snobs.

That had been the final straw. The last embarrassment they’d endure.

It was and _is_ fine, really, since those very parties he’d always been forced to go to were always a hated part of his early childhood; and he never once had to ever go to them again. In fact, from that point on, he didn’t _have_ to do anything. No more snobbish, rich adults, drab music, upholding of false appearances, bratty little monsters – Oh sweet evilness are those mini-abominations not missed in particular.

In place of all that was money. Loads of it sent in his direction. A small portion of the family fortune, he now knew, but that wasn’t the issue. It’s a need, to be sure, but not the only one. It doesn’t tell jokes, stay up late to watch cartoons, offer a helping hand to build, give advice on life, stand up for you, and it _certainly_ doesn’t practice its evil laugh in the mirror beside you...

Still, he’s _happy_ for the event, and in the intense unlikelihood that he isn’t, he one day will be.

‘ _Besides,’_ muses Jack with an honest, light-hearted attempt at a shrug, _‘I’m used to it.’_

His last remaining Jack-bots float over to him, earning a minor smile from the boy genius.

“Finally done?”

“Yes, sir,” replies the left one. Both salute him. Jack’s grin pulls at one end.

“Alright, then do me a favor: _get rid of this moron_.” His order is heralded by a jerk of his green head in the pink tree’s direction.

“Aye Aye, sir,” they reply, even as Vlad sputters something stupid in reply.

The Jack-bot’s fly over toward Vlad, the Russian looking from one bot to the other in quick succession.

They grab onto a branch each, hoisting the idiot into the air. “Wait, I tak–“

Whatever lie he’s about to utter is cut off by the Jack-bots soaring up into the air with him, Vlad screaming all the while. He’s trailing behind Jack’s bots, the evil genius laughing uncontrollably at the fear etched onto the moron’s face. The Jack-bots keep going until just about over the property’s surrounding concrete wall, thrusting their limbs forward and letting go. Vlad is sent soaring away from the property, leaving a messy trail of leaves and vibrant flowers in the sky as he takes on a high-pitched scream.

“So long, _morons!_ ” Jack cackles out. He directs the dark laughs toward the sky, Jack-bots each sending a proud thumbs up at him.

This may very well be the end of his evil career, but Jack has a plan. One that will work. It’s already in the makings. Literally. And once he’s finished, he’ll be blasting off.

It’s an idea he’s considered a couple times in the past, but never dwelled on for long because there just wasn’t enough time for such a project between Shen Gong Wu revealings. But since seeing another option to evil on that day in the Tohomiko Electronics Skyscraper, he’s found himself working on the blueprints for it anyways, the urge just raw. And he’s always wanted a real one.

It would be small when finished in his basement, but since portability is an issue anyways, the airborne base package’s size will not be much of a problem. He’s going to miss a few Showdowns before finishing this project, he’s sure, but since his only Shen Gong Wu since losing _everything_ else to Gigi is the Monkey Staff, Jack figures little interference from the losers will come. Or the Heylin, considering Wuya’s lack of interest in that particular artifact.

So when he’s finally returned to his original species out of the blue, he goes straight to the house’s basement, intent on getting that project underway.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Ten months later…** _

Life has been rather pleasant. Not overly fun by any means, but pleasant. However, both Jack’s lair and automatons have come far since his landing in the area with his finished project all those months ago.

The finished product ended up reminiscent of a giant crab, though with clawed frontal limbs instead of giant pincers. Jack’s leave from his house was atop the hulking bot following its limbs retractions, jet engines firing their exhaust from the pathways formed. Their flight was somewhat lengthy, but the breeze was nice, blowing Jack’s hair and outfit around whilst he sat cross-legged on the beast’s head; and he was in too good a mood to really care. His thin, lopsided smile couldn’t cease.

Its landing in Jack’s chosen location was a loud, earth-shaking one, the sizable bot steadfast in clawing its way down into the Earth. After its burrowing underground, a tube-like elevator structure extended from its top, drilling all the way back to the surface as the bot transformed into what would be the beginnings of Jack’s lair: A simple bedroom space with a connected bathroom. The mildly limited space actually made Jack happy for the couple remaining Jack-bots left in service at the time. The last thing he needed was for it to be **crowded**.

Following the settling in, Jack swiftly began to look for work, fully intent on the use of his unmatched technological prowess. It was an admittedly slow start, though, at least until he got his hands on a fake ID. Criminally priced as that thing was. But from then on, the workflow became steady, Jack settling in nicely as a robotics contractor that designed and/or built usually-simple robots for a plethora of companies and corporations.

Well, simple compared to his personal automatons, anyways.

It's just as well that the job pays handsomely, allowing for near non-stop work on said automatons. And since the contracts he takes on are for projects hardly worth his time, the jobs are short more often than not.

Still, the time away from personal projects was annoying, leading to his return to working on a specific bot.

Robo-Jack.

That particular project took the longest to complete. Over and over _and over again,_ Jack reprogrammed his metallic clone, chips finely tuned each time to what the boy genius figured would finally manage to do the trick. By the time Robo-Jack was ready for his first test run, the base was multi-story; the new floors consisted of his lab and a storage facility for his creations. There were always plenty of revision 2.0 Jack-bots on stand-by within the lab during these testing sequences, their heavier weaponry at the ready for each and every betrayal Robo-Jack attempted time and time again. Thus making Jack’s robotic clone the one project that returned him to a life of constant repairs, if temporarily.

Go figure.

The efforts were well-worth it, however, because when Jack finally _did_ manage to get it right, those boring jobs became a thing of the past, annoying meetings with idiotic company CEOs long forgotten. That and everything else Jack didn’t want to do officially became Robo-Jack’s problem. _Especially_ repairs, no matter how small they were.

But amidst his base’s furthered expansion and project completions, things took a turn for the dull. Awesome bots, yes, definitely so. He’d have them blast any that dared say otherwise. However, that was just the problem: There was no blasting. Only storage. What was the point of building the machines if they were never going to see service? Heck, for a short duration, Jack actually began to have them vaporize small portions of snow-covered forest for entertainment. The satisfaction from the sounds of their weaponry was only beaten by that brought by their varying degrees and types of wrought devastation.

When the foliage lost its charred amusement, boulders with Wuya’s ugly likeness spray-painted on them quickly became a new thing. Admittedly, that one lasted longer.

It just wasn’t the same, though… There was no one to taunt, no foe to cackle at as they unsuccessfully tried to wrap their mind around how he brought them to an embarrassing defeat.

The hunt for Wu was missed. Everything else that came with that gig, though, wasn’t. Those particular details were more than enough to have Jack ignore his Detecto-Bot’s multiple soundings during his neutral life. The function was built into a watch he wore for more reasons than just that one, making the device’s silencing a requirement every now and then. Banging it on the nearest surface available once or twice always did the trick when he couldn’t be bothered to manually turn it off.

His device, his rules.

There was only one odd occurrence throughout his new life of neutrality: An email received from a certain monk’s father, apparent interest in Jack’s skills written within. What exactly the email said, he didn’t know, as those things were Robo-Jack’s to deal with, but the two of them readily agreed on the solution: ignore it. However, “it” turned into “them”, a few more being sent sent before the message seemed to finally find its way into the company owner’s skull.

He’s done with his past life. In all regards. Xiaolin, Heylin, Shen Gong Wu, and everything in between is no longer a concern of his. So the last thing Jack was about to do was waltz up to one of the monk’s parents for a possible job. _Especially_ not hers. With his luck, she’d coincidentally be there for a visit, and one impacting small fist with contrasting power to the face was more than enough for this ex-evil genius. And if Kimiko’s crying that day way back when was anything to go on, his being within close proximity to her father, ever, would no doubt earn him one with accompanying flames.

As such, Japan has been off-limits.

Perhaps a little extreme, but Jack has no desire to be on the receiving end of _that_ much of her anger ever again. Plus, the location might lead to thoughts of the girl, which are not only always a downer from the fact of her vast disdain for him, but useless.

Like Vlad.

Fortunately, his inventions never failed to be a stalwart distraction from those thoughts, and the whole incident with her father’s job offer flew by like the cold breeze of his new residence, forgotten the very next day.

The now-fifteen boy feels his lips tug upward in amusement at the thought of where he’s based. He’s sat upon a bean bag within his room, continuously bouncing a ball off of the black wall of his bedroom. A cozy, dark space with enough room to fit a couple pieces of furniture.

Jack snorts, thinking of the country’s name: ‘ _Iceland...’_

He punches the ball harder the next time. It's sent directly toward one of his two last-remaining original Jack-Bots. The bot raises a hand, smacking the ball toward the other Jack-Bot across from it. They send it back and forth.

Jack’s posture slouches, the teen sliding down and into the bean bag whilst his eyes keep on the ball. His arms raise above his head, Jack’s legs extending outward as he performs a lengthy stretch.

‘ _Still, no one would_ ever _look here.’_

The stretch ends with him falling back down into a lazy heap on the bean bag. Jack stares dully at the ceiling.

‘ _Least of all_ **Wuya** _.’_

Prolonged time away from her can never hope to stop his nose’s scrunching up at just her name. It remembers. Any set of nostrils – not to mention _ears_ – would or could, Jack figures

His have never been better. It’s like suddenly coming out of an extensive cold and remembering what it’s like to _not_ cough every second.

Just Wuya’s absence alone makes neutral worthwhile. As well as every sinister laugh and cackle that had followed in each invention’s completion. Sure, not all of them were new, but he loves them all the same.

Plus, he feels his evil laugh has improved. A toothy uplift adorns Jack’s lips. He chuckles lowly.

The Heylin’s entirety occurs to him next, thus once again packing, sealing, and shipping out the deal. Nevermind those four other loser factors.

Jack’s hands go behind his head, the boy genius settling into a relaxing lay. A happy sigh of satisfaction leaves him, the redhead thinking, not for the first time, _‘Totally worth it.’_

But as is routine in the life of Jack Spicer, things _never_ go as planned.

Not even five seconds into his smile’s emergence comes a hard jerk of the _entire_ room, tossing Jack straight out of his seat. Arms flailing in utter surprise, the boy genius’ wide-eyed expression hits dead on with the mid-air ball. His flight is harshly interrupted by the wall, barely cushioned by the ball his head is indenting into.

Down Jack goes, his two Jack-Bots scurrying around the room in a panic as the ball squeaks along the wall, their metal arms swaying frantically. Face still cringed, Jack’s meeting with the metal floor is a calm one, the ball rolling away from him.

Growling, he moves to get up. One foot goes flat on the floor before a horrible quaking starts, it going through his _entire_ base, he freaking swears. He’s immediately brought back to a lay on the ground, though this time bouncing around. His few items within the room topple over, a lamp breaking on the floor whilst his bed moves back and forth.

Managing to twist over, Jack looks to his bots. They’re shaking in place, constantly re-aligning themselves. He eyes their thrusters blowing in varying directions below themselves, his agitation building all the while. The feeling gets almost nostalgic, and by that point, he’s had his fill. All he can manage, though, is a vibrating sit on the moving floor, glaring hatefully at the equally active dark metal wall.

“The-err-r-re a-are r-r-rep-oo-rts,” stutters out both of his accompanying Jack-Bots in dual monotone, Jack interrupting them with a shouting, “ _I can feel it!_ ”

Subsequent to the final syllable, one final heavy jerk goes through the room, throwing him forward. He lands on his stomach into a partial slide on the suddenly calm floor.

‘ _Yeah, this_ has _to be_ **them** _,’_ thinks Jack, eyes narrowing hatefully at the floor.

The Heylin.

Who else can cause freaking earthquakes in _Iceland_? No one even cares about Iceland, nevermind knows of its _existence!_

One of his Jack-Bots flies over to him, Jack lifting his head to regard it. Its chest-plate separates at the center, two sheets of metal pulling apart to reveal a large screen. It powers on, showing flickering footage that contains an annoying static to its audio.

Jack’s expression sours with each destroyed or falling apart location that goes by as the bot cycles through different channels. He puts an elbow to the floor, palming his cheek. His other hand drums its fingers on the ground before himself.

Yeah, that’s 1,000 years of darkness alright. He’s seen it enough times to know the obvious tell-tale signs. Although this time is rather… extreme. Too many places are already in shambles. The unnatural disasters are too large, too fierce, and spreading at a newly-set record.

Jack groans out a whine, his shoulders slouching.

‘ _Just my luck. A special occasion.’_

Getting to his feet, the boy genius re-aligns the knocked askew goggles worn on his head. The trench coat clad teen walks over to the half-cylinder bronze-metal protuberance on one of the walls of his room. Jack stops before it, pressing the call button next to the elevator system. Waiting, he takes a narrow glance at his bots.

Their glowing red visors hold worry. Fearful knowledge displays easily as a result of both their emotion-chips and data-banks. They know what’s up, too. All his history with the Wu and both parties that fought for them is theirs, too.

Looking back ahead, Jack sighs agitatedly. The elevator doors open, rounded metal sliding apart and into the wall. He walks within the cylindrical space.

A half-crescent railing raises from the floor on the back-end of it. On its top lies a square control panel bearing four numbered buttons. At the bottom of the column is a larger red button for the emergency stop. Jack presses the top-most one, crossing his arms as the doors slide shut. They do so with a low clank, his bronze confine starting its ascension.

Light shines through the slit of the bronze doors twice, illuminating the mildly dim space in brief flashes.

His deadpanning stare is at the ready by the time the ceiling pulls apart, and he can feel the first droplets of _freezing_ rain before the floor rises past the bronze walls and levels out on the surface. He’s got his goggles lowered by the time it does so, grimacing before the gusts of wind smacking into him whilst his hair is drenched into a cold mess. His outfit is quickly soaked through, too. The teen grasps onto the railing to steady himself, glaring as he takes in the surroundings past the torrents of rain.

Trees that once bore snow-covered leaves are now rid of their white coating, blowing wildly at the whim of the harsh, **cold** winds. The ground is covered in a white mush of wet snow and frost. Pools of water are actually starting to form.

A boom of thunder nearly jolts him off his feet. His grip tightens around the railing. Shock ebbing, Jack’s wide eyes slowly go back to their original narrowness, the glare returning. He flexes his chilled fingers, raising his gaze to the storming sky. It's nearly pitch black. Many flashes of lightning are going off in the distance, illuminating the darkened landscape.

Another loud thunder sounds. It’s the last he cares to hear, as his entire body is trembling. It’s with a shaking hand that the boy genius presses a button on the control panel, his teeth chattering all the while. His arms cross whilst the floor descends back into the ground. Past the ceiling he goes, it closing immediately after. Jack’s hands grip tightly on his upper arms, jaw clenching.

‘ _I bet it’s one of_ _ **those two**_ _,’_ thinks jack acidly. Out of all the Heylin, Chase and Wuya are the most likely to succeed in bringing 1,000 years of darkness. Especially to this degree.

‘ _Or maybe both...?_ ’ considers Jack in freezing trepidation. Those two did seem to be getting along last he was around and still in the game. Disgusted fear arises from the notion. Though mostly fear.

It really doesn’t matter which it is: Whether Chase _or_ Wuya, successful take-over only means his doom is impending. And if it’s the hag, it’ll be sooner.

Now it’s all fear.

He takes a shaky breath, the inhale deep. A matching exhale follows. Closing his eyes, he’s able to push the fear down by focusing instead on how cold he is.

The elevator reaches his room, doors parting, and despite the situation's grave implications… and proceedings…

Jack stiffly stalks into the room, muttering contemptuously to his Jack-Bots, “Ah, j-just ign-n-nore it.” Shivering steps take him past them and into the bathroom. After a toweling down and change of clothes, Jack re-emerges, skin still cold to the touch.

“This is _their_ problem,” announces Jack, heading towards his re-aligned bed.

It’s the first time Jack’s thought of any of them since Mr. T’s last email. The change is not at all welcome.

Making it all the sweeter that this isn’t his problem. After all, he’s _not_ Heylin and for sure no Xiaolin.

‘ _Besides,’_ thinks Jack, pulling the covers down and laying in bed, _‘I’m sure those losers will have things back to normal in no time.’_ How long did Wuya’s last ruling go on for? Not even a day?

He pulls up the covers whilst scoffing mentally. They go over his head, Jack closing his eyes contentedly from inside the warm confines of the quilt. Jack falls asleep despite the slight jostling of the room.

 

* * *

 

He’s woken up by… burning… thrusters…

Jack’s eyes groggily pop open under the covers. For a moment, he lays there and stares at nothing, slowly blinking the tiredness away. His bot’s ignition continues.

Sighing, Jack pulls the covers to reveal a Jack-Bot. Worried red optics return his squinting gaze. However, his eyes are drawn down by an illuminating light. The screen in its chest cavity shows a world still at its end. An unenthused look at the clock returned upon a nightstand’s surface reveals two hours to have gone by.

Jack looks back to the screen. Footage of erupting volcanoes is displaying. Next up is a group of powerful tornadoes ravaging a different landscape. Then a tsunami approaching one sorry sap of a camera-man, that footage going to black static soon enough. He yawns, humming thoughtfully at the red sky shown in all of the scenes of destruction.

The next changing of the channel shows the dark red clouds bleeding across the sky, overtaking what’s left of it and blotting out the sunlight. With darkness' expansion comes harsh rainfall and winds.

‘ _ **Real**_ _special,’_ grouses Jack, groaning.

The Jack-Bot’s look of worry is proving to be contagious, though, because despite the rising annoyance at the situation, there’s an equal portion of worry escalating with it. He’s been averse to thinking about it since this whole thing began, but is finding it hard to continue doing that.

Honestly, how long _will_ it be before this comes to bite him in the rear? Wuya is already a known sooner-than-later; she pretty much promised him as much on the day of their final parting. Chase, however, doesn’t strike Jack as one that would ever go out of his way to eliminate him, and, as such, he labels the warlord a likely when-he-gets-around-to-it.

He sighs, exasperation drawing the motion out.

Now he’s _never_ going to get to sleep.

“Alright, alright, I see your point,” Jack concedes with a wry smile. Its thumbs up in return clinks lightly, Jack’s lips pulling into a smirk.

“Wake me when everything’s ready,” Jack suddenly orders, the bot’s eyes widening whilst he plops back down onto his bed, pulls the covers up to his head, and turns over. Faux snoring follows.

“Yes, sir,” comes the bot’s monotone agreement. Jack pictures the Jack-Bot saluting after saying such. His lips quirk upward during his false slumber. However, when the bot flies off to do his bidding, his snoring stops and a minor frown forms.

He’ll be leaving soon. In fact, it’s not even two minutes before that same Jack-Bot returns.

"Preparations are in place, sir,” the Jack-Bot declares. Its robotic hand raises to its front, clutching.

He’s both annoyed and impressed.

Sitting up, Jack throws the covers off himself. He gets out of bed and walks past the Jack-Bot, going into the at-the-ready elevator. He turns to press a button on the control panel, but the doors slam shut, surprising him. Though not as much as the elevator’s sudden _soaring_ toward his destination, Jack gripping onto the railing with both hands.

The elevator jerks to a stop. Its doors open. Loosening his death grip on the railing, Jack takes a relieved breath. He shakes bodily to rid himself of built tension in his muscles. After, Jack walks out of the elevator, entering a large hall with tall bronze-metal walls of brushed steel. The broad ground has his heli-bot’s glaring emblem imprinted in its center, greatly sized up and surrounded by blackness.

Devious pride fills Jack at the sight of his slew of automaton’s at-the-ready stances, each one with a single blaster raised and pointing at an angle toward the ceiling. In dead-center of the group is his Transformer-Bot currently in its bird-of-prey form. It’s crouched, hatch open and ready to take him within.

Behind the vehicle are five Guard-Bots standing at an impressive (and hopefully threatening) twenty feet.

Humanoid in model, the bots are lanky metallic beasts that bear top-heavy, headless torsos, the max of their heights reached only by the sharp ends of pointed shoulders. Five pairs of angled bolt-like half-crescents serve as eyes and glow a dark red from where the large slashes are situated within broad, skull-esque bronze chest-plates. Below those plates, their design curves inward to form narrow, metal-gray mid-sections partially covered by teeth-like protrusions extending down from the chest armor and up from the groin. A thick set of lengthy bars connected side-by-side make up their upper arms, meeting at a cylindrical gray joint. On the other end is a prominent fore-arm that serves as its large plasma cannon; each Guard-Bot's left blaster bears a large spring-driven cylinder at its base, leading instead to a three-pronged hand. The Guard-Bot’s legs are long bronze limbs that only bulge out further past their cylindrical joints that are covered by a gray knee-pad-shaped slab of metal.

To the rear of these monstrous constructs are the second revision Jack-Bots. Gone are the heads of the previous design, their faces now sunken down to rest on the chest cavity; a small dome rests where the head used to lie. Large, bowl-like sheets of metal extend from the sides of their broader torsos, their pinnacle higher than the shoulders. From those hollow depths extends thick rods with a rolling cylinder serving as the arms’ elbows. Their left arms end with a medium plasma blaster that’s harder hitting than the previous model’s, but also comes with a slower rate of fire. On the right is a bulky half-sphere with four thin, multi-jointed fingers; between the digits lies a circular indentation that remains closed until usage, thus ensuring the prevention of napalm spillage. At their bottom extends a somewhat heftier thruster to counter the heavier weight.

The second revisions are larger on every axis due to their slew of enhancements. Though much of their added mass comes from heavier weaponry and armor.

Twenty of them align in two rows behind the Guard-Bots.

It’s a sight for sore ex-evil eyes. Jack stops in front of his automatons, his dark gaze running over the group. For a moment, his eyes meet with the matching expression of Robo-Jack’s, his robotic clone reclining against the heel of a Guard-Bot. However, Jack’s head tilts, his smirk retreating into a thoughtful line. Brows drawing together, his eyes narrow in suspicion before the steadfast nature of everything.

His mouth opens to speak, but the level suddenly begins to ascend, Jack’s eyes widening in surprise.

“Hey,” sputters Jack, running to his bird-like vehicle, “just what were my orders for this?” It’s a half-hearted demand. After a few quick steps, Jack activates his heli-pack, going airborne and greatly speeding his pace.

“Swift annihilation, baby!” roar the assembled bots. They all raise their already risen blasters higher, each clutching a hand at their side.

Their declaration is so properly evil that Jack can feel a wetness of pride forming in his eyes. In fact, there’s nearly cause to wipe at one of them as he hurriedly seats himself within his prepared robotic vehicle. His Transformer-Bot closes the hatch whilst he settles in, standing up. The bird-like vehicle adopts a wider stance, talons clanking on the floor.

A resounding metallic boom sounds from the ceiling. It splits apart at the middle, grinding and moving gears accompanying the dim light bleeding down onto them. Soon enough, the ceiling has completely moved aside, allowing their continuous ascension to reach ground level.

The weather is far calmer. Drizzling rainfall lands on the hatch of Jack’s vehicle from a gray-clouded sky rather than a near-black one. However, there’s a red hue approaching from the distant horizon of their travel location.

A thick, wide sheet of metal on the back of every Guard-Bot pivots outward to create an opening. From the dark compartments emits a sudden roar of flames that shakes the ground. Sole-based rockets ignite as well, their charring flames bleeding from under the monstrous bots’ two-pronged feet. Whilst they go airborne, the revision two Jack-Bots rev up their thrusters as well. Beside Jack’s vehicle, Robo-Jack hovers in wait with crossed arms, sole-based rockets keeping him afloat.

The Transformer-Bot starts to hover, its own systems coming alive. Pulling its feet up, the talons come to rest near the underside. Then, it shoots off for the sky, Robo-Jack following to the side whilst the rest move into formation. Two Guard-Bots take to the side Robo-Jack is on whilst the remaining three go the left. The Jack-Bots form two rows of ten behind them.

As the group makes their way to a certain temple, Jack decides it’s as good a time to actually have that sleep. He kicks his legs up onto the cockpit’s dashboard, reclining his seat. He pulls his goggles down over his eyes, hands then going behind the teen’s head.

Muffled burning ignitions lull him into a comfortable slumber.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Approaching destination,” speaks an awakening monotone voice. Jack groggily opens his eyes, frowning at the given information. He slides his hands off his lap, letting his right limb drop down the chair’s side. Its hand grasps a lever. He pulls it up. His seat snaps back into its previous previous position.

Wiping the sand from his eyes, his body is forced into a partial lean forward. Jack raises both arms. He’s still stretching when his back is replanted into the seat.

All engines calm.

He sniffs through a nostril. Having it cleared, Jack’s dull gaze watches the cloud-ridden horizon. The entire sky is blotted out by their red-black forms. For a moment he watches the evil change float by.

Unfortunately, his situation fails to change any, and Jack’s eyes trail down.

Smoke and molten ash litter the far-away sky, added to in no short amount by the array of volcanoes that are spewing the stuff to the already-dark sky. The sight earns a tired quirk of his lips. Despite this, he raises a hand to his mouth, yawning extensively.

Finishing, the ex-evil boy genius looks down from the now-active mountains, red eyes raking over dying forestry. The trees’ branches are not yet barren, but the leaves hold a stark yellow hue to their once lush green leaves. Every gust of wind that passes takes more down, however.

The wind picks up again, bending tree trunks right before his eyes. Malnourished remnants flutter wildly, a few branches snapping here and there.

‘ _Well, at least the place has livened up a bit,’_ Jack begrudgingly concedes, eyeing the expanses of green-yellow hills that adorn much of the rest of the area’s portion.

Sickly lands continue by.

Jack manages to wake up by the time his sight roams over the drying up river that once flowed so healthily down the land. He grins, crossing his arms and mildly leaning forward. His eyes settle on the distinctly man-made area it runs by.

A crooked smirk pulls across his face. Dark amusement lines Jack’ s half-lidded reds.

Some ways ahead of the assembly lies the temple. In ruins. Every building is damaged; gaps of varying sizes and shapes litter the vast majority of their blue roofs. Small patches of embers glow from a few of them, helping to enlighten what the dimmer ones can’t. There’s even a sizable gap in the smoking temple’s surrounding wall, of which Jack assumes to be the entrance for the losers to do their thing.

His head shakes side to side. Jack’s brows draw inward a measure. The smile on his face withers somewhat, though, turning into a tight smile.

“Xiaolin Losers,” states Jack in agitated delight, raising a hand. Four fingers grasp around one of his spiral bearing lenses.”They never break tradition.”

Jack re-adjusts the wayward socket back into place on his forehead. Arms crossing, he falls back into his seat.

Jack snorts, muttering, “Probably promoted.”

He huffs in amusement and looks back at the temple. His eyes dart to _it_ , knowing exactly where the building lay and able to recognize it no matter how trashed it may be. His cheeks lift from a spreading smile.

His favorite place back in the day: The Shen Gong Wu Vault.

Jack’s hands lift and come together, sliding against one another in devious consideration. A canine peeks from his grinning lips.

He grabs the controls to his craft, switching off the auto-pilot. All engines sound.

They move.

“To the temple!” shouts Jack into the mic on his dashboard, a booming speaker relaying the command to the accelerating group. There’s a remarkable joy blooming in his chest from the words. It’s familiar, and he merrily engages the afterburners.

The muffled roar adds its own contribution to the shake of his craft. But soon enough, the roar dims and is no longer all that audible, his cockpit calming greatly. Once at the proper velocity, they make a U-turn.

They approach ground-level, decelerating a little more.

All thrusters disengage on Guard-Bots and Transformer-Bot alike.

Stone-walkway and dirt give way before the bird-like invention’s talon’s, rumbling Jack’s cockpit nicely whilst he eyes the approaching building. The sharp nails of its talons dig just a little further when the craft’s stance lowers and widens, the appendages spreading further apart to help give the needed resistance.

The vehicle jerks to a stop somewhat near the building’s front. It kneels down low to the ground.

His craft’s hatch opens, Jack unbuckling his seat belt. He jumps out of his vehicle, boots clunking dully on the ground. The bot’s hatch closes, and it stands tall. A steady wind blows Jack’s trench coat to the side whilst he takes a deep breath, enjoying the smokey scent.

“Ah, the smell of evil,” relishes Jack, smiling. Looking around for a moment, he chuckles at the state of the temple.

He walks before the assembled robots. Heavy, metallic _clanks_ follow him.

Crossing his arms, Jack’s evil grin falls into place as he eyes his automatons.

“Alright, boys, let’s see what we can find in this dump!”

Jack’s stride stops. He turns to regard a Jack-Bot. Its jagged, angled red optics immediately shift to meet his own red eyes. Thrusting an arm up, he points at it, yelling, “Jack-Bots!”

All of their domed tops bob in recognition. Jack’s arm thrusts out toward a random part of the loser grounds.

“Search the temple!”

Each one of them raises a half-globe hand to salute him. Then they all turn, thrusters burning and taking them in different directions. Debris is thrown about as they scatter.

By the time they’re gone, Robo-Jack is already beside Jack. Eyes half-lidded, RJ clasps his hands behind himself, looking around the temple with an amused smile.

Jack points to the five Guard-Bots. “You guys come with me.”

Following the order, his hand moves to jut a thumb over his shoulder at the Wu vault. He and Robo-Jack then turn, making their way over there. Sounding metallic steps trail behind them.

The entrance to the building has one remaining partial door, its remaining half hanging limply from the upper hinge. They put their hands in their trench coat pockets, whilst smiling up at the sight of the tarnished building. A nice piece is missing, taking much of the roof with it.

Robo-Jack ducks under the partial door whilst they chuckle, entering without a care; the larger bots remain outside to stand guard. Among fallen stone rubble lies wooden particles and pieces in a wide array from the entrance. They pause to enjoy the sight. Then turn to the right.

The vault is already open, stairs lowered and leading down to a blue-tinted underground.

“Wow,” laughs out Jack, the two walking toward the vault, “the losers must have really gotten _pasted_.”

“I always knew they had it in them,” sings Robo-Jack’s confidence in the monks. He follows his creator down the steps.

Jack stops before the first drawer in line. He grabs the handle and pulls it open.

The boy genius’ eyes widen.

Smirking in wicked delight, he reaches in. Out comes the Shroud of Shadows.

He holds the Wu up, turning to Robo-Jack. RJ grasps a drawer, but stops to regard him, grinning excitedly at the sight of the Shen Gong Wu. “Well, I guess we know who _didn’t_ take over the world.”

Jack cackles, Robo-Jack joining him. They reach into their trench coats, producing sacks. Both start bagging Wu amidst their amusement.

“So Chase, then” chuckles out RJ, peering curiously into a drawer. He shoves the thing back into the wall.

Jack snorts loudly while pulling out another Shen Gong Wu. “Who _else_ would leave this much Wu lying around?” He briefly waves the just-acquired Eye of Dashi to cement his point.

“Just wanna be sure on who to thank,”replies Robo-Jack, grin serene as he plucks yet another Wu from its storage. After its bagging, he slings his sack over his shoulder and moves further down the winding stairwell in an ecstatic hurry, their low snickers echoing in the underground cavern.

Both proceed to fill their sacks with Shen Gong Wu. Robo-Jack moves up the steps while Jack makes his way down them. Their humor turns to dark chuckles, bags getting heavier. Not every slot contains an artifact, but just there being any at all proves the wench isn’t responsible, and he’s not about to leave all of these here for someone _else_ to bag. _Least_ of all **that** greedy ghost hag.

In time, they finally reach one another, sacks nearly full. They pluck the last two Shen Gong Wu, bagging them too as their dark laughter echos louder. The two redheads look to one another. Dual sets of red eyes meet, and they smirk.

“ _True strength comes from within_ ,” they snidely mock, shaking their heads with skyward pupils. Their tongues lull out by the end.

Bellows of laughter ensue. They make their way back up the revolving stairwell, decently filled sacks draped over a shoulder each. Their exit through the demolished entrance is with snickering smiles.

“Hey,” mutters Jack, elbowing RJ gently, “you picked up the reversing mirror, right?”

Robo-Jack’s eyes widen frightfully, breaking their good mood with a mutual pause. The robot’s grip on its sack tightens.

“Serpent’s Tail?” RJ replies hopefully. Jack’s head slowly shakes in the negative, shredding that hope to pieces.

The bag drops from Robo-Jack’s hands, much like the bot’s lower jaw.

“Okay,” starts Jack shakily, “let’s not jump to conclus–“

“ _Jump to conclusions!?_ ” shouts RJ in angered incredulity. He grabs onto Jack’s collar, lifting a hand bearing clenched fingers whilst gently jerking Jack forward. “ROCK! _GOLEMS!_ ”

As if that’s not enough, he goes on to yell, “ _ **Huge**_ _rock golems!_ ” Robo-Jack raises his other hand high, palm flat and facing the ground. The arm speedily extends in an utterly futile attempt to show just how huge _that_ specific one had been.

“Yeah, well I don’t see any!” refutes Jack, scowling at his invention and slapping away its hand. RJ stumbles back a moment, longer arm swaying before it quickly retracts. Following the limb’s snap into place, Robo-Jack’s reply is at-the-ready:

“That’s because she’s probably already –“

“Sir,” interrupts dual monotone voices. Both whip their head toward the Jack-Bots.

“ _What?!_ ” they shout in unison.

Their anger blinks away, however, two sets of red eyes widening when they take notice of what the pair of Jack-Bots are carrying. Between thin fingers, the two bots clutch at one top end of a large block of ice; minor cracks spread from under their metal digits.

Within the giant cube of ice is none other than Dojo, frozen into a permanent scream. Both redheads blink blankly at the sight of the lizard’s wavy tongue and wide eyes. Then they burst into laughter at the dragon’s fate. Robo-Jack points, Jack dropping his bag to clutch at his side whilst he partially doubles over.

The boy genius manages to contain his laughter after a moment, righting himself somewhat. His eyes meet Dojo’s priceless expression again, though, and a fresh bout of laughter bursts past his lips. Nonetheless, he still manages to motion the bots over to him.

He’s back in relative control by the time they reach him. Unlike Robo-Jack, whom barks out an evil laugh whilst Jack snickers at the Loser’s pet. Placing a fist on his hip, the boy genius raises an arm, wagging his fingers downward a few times.

The Jack-Bots release their find. It drops a few inches, yet still trembles the ground when it lands, cracking the mildly burnt stone tiles. The Jack-Bots take to a side of the giant block of ice each, regarding their creator.

“Hey, Dojo,” calls Jack, knocking a fist on the ice, “ _sense any Shen Gong Wu in there!?_ ”

He snickers at his own joke, smiling widely. Eyelids lowering, he turns the look to Robo-Jack, whom mirrors it back at him. Low chuckles leave them, lips curling just a bit more.

RJ speeds off for a good position, Jack moving to lean on the block of ice. He smirks right in the face of Dojo’s frozen fright, unable to restrain bubbling chuckles. The Jack-Bots take their positions aside the frozen delight; both raise a blaster and put a hand to their hip.

Robo-Jack is off a few yards from them, looking through a finger-box with one eye. His hands shift, RJ trying to get the perfect angle. He does this for a few more seconds, and Jack’s patience begins to wane. The boy genius is just about ready to yell at his robotic double when a grin splits Robo-Jack’s face.

There’s a brief, bright flash from RJ's pupil, a sounding snap following.

Jack breaks his pose to wipe at his eyes. The boy genius bends down, reaching blindly with a hand until he manages to grab both sacks of Wu. Standing, he hefts them over a shoulder. They walk toward one another, Jack smiling despite the mild flash blindness.

“We’re getting that developed when we get back,” declares Jack. He lowers his wiping hand, opening his eyes to see Robo-Jack smirking toothily.

“ _Totally_ _,_ ” RJ smoothly concurs, the duo shooting a finger gun at the other whilst they pass one another.

Robo-Jack walks to the frozen dragon, Jack going where the bot once stood.

Reaching Dojo, Robo-Jack shakes his head, tisk-tisking. He leans down, pressing his smiling face against the cold surface. Hands raising, they go to the sides of Robo-Jack's face, the bot gazing dead-on into Dojo’s screaming expression.

‘ _A picture for a thousand points and seen to believe,’_ processes the robot’s AI. Snickering, he crosses his arms, leaning away from the frozen surface.

Reaching an adequate distance, Jack stops and drops the bags of Wu. He, too, crosses his arms and turns to face the loser pet. Robo-Jack backs away from the block of ice.

“Jack-Bots, blast em outta there,” order both redheads

The Jack-Bots move to face a side of the block each, thrusters purring gently whilst they shoot backward some feet. When far enough, their engines calm and they stop, each raising a blaster. An electric charge hums to life, the covered coils within their weaponry sending a bright blue glow out the muzzle.

Dual orbs of energy the size of watermelons blast free. The spiraling projectiles leave a feint blue trail while they soar for the block of ice. Their crash into it creates an explosion that trembles the ground, flaming black smoke mixing with mist and ice particles. Smiling wickedly, Jack raises a protective arm in front of his face, pieces of ice thudding against his body.

Until a shrill, _loud_ shriek sounds after a mere moment of frozen debris landing. Jack can’t cover his ears fast enough, cringing whilst Robo-Jack immediately disables all auditory functions _not in time_. The noise, however, seems to be going straight through his covering limbs, and Jack presses them harder against his head. His jaw clenches, posture lowering as the noise manages to _still_ break through.

The sudden quiet is such that a feint echo of the dragon’s scream permeates in his covered ears. He assumes the dragon finally ran out of breath, and narrowly opens his eyes. General silence continues.

Jack lowers his arms, crossing them over his chest and straightening his posture. He glowers at the clearing light-gray mist before walking toward it.

Soon enough, the misty smoke clears, revealing a violently shaking Dojo. Wide reptilian eyes frantically look around as Jack approaches, confused panic in their black depths.

Dojo’s orbs widen incrementally, the animal’s wild glances in every direction coming to an alarmed halt when he takes notice of the numerous Jack-Bots roaming the temple grounds. His eyes scatter to look here and there, watching them fly around.

Robo-Jack is the first to reach him. He stands before Dojo’s side, fists on hips. The shadow he casts on him earns a visible stiffening of Dojo’s body.

Slowly, Dojo turns to regard Robo-Jack, the robot’s smirk stretching wider as more of the animal’s terrified expression is revealed. By the time he’s got the dragon’s full attention, every sharp, serrated tooth is clearly visible. His black brows draw further down and inward.

Dojo sputters a few times through his cold shaking, raising a talon. RJ chuckles at the tiny pupils in his eyes.

“J-Jack _Spicer?_ ”

“In the flesh,” declares Jack, earning Dojo’s attention as he walks beside RJ. Blinking rapidly, Dojo’s gaze sweeps back and forth between the two. His mouth falls open and snaps shut.

Heavy footfalls come from behind the duo. Dojo looks behind them, and his lower jaw drops.

The look persists. A final set of steps sounds directly behind the duo, Dojo’s risen gaze clearly gaping at their hulking forms.

Swiping a hand down, Jack grabs the dragon and hauls him up to his face, yelling, “How did you losers manage to mess up _this baaad!_ ” Flesh upon the dragon’s face flaps before the harshly spat words, Dojo’s eyes squinting.

That’s one down. Five more are left to go for that hit his face took in the wake of this crap’s literally _moving_ start, old fart included.

He smirks in utter amusement at the dragon’s disgruntled expression, Dojo's eyes rolling in their sockets. The animal closes his eyes. Dojo brings both talons to the sides of his head.

“Sir,” calls another monotone voice.

Jack turns to his left to regard the Jack-Bot. His gaze swiftly goes to the old man in its grasp, held by the rear neck-line of his blue and white robes. Unconscious, Fungus’ limbs dangle lifelessly, the man’s chin resting on his chest.

“Perfect timing,” proclaims Jack. He strides over to the bot, lowering his arms and swaying them as if he isn’t carrying someone. The panicked struggle and sputtering barely register.

Stopping before the temple master, Jack’s eyes go down and then back up the man’s unconscious form. He squints at the man’s face, nose crinkling in annoyance.

“Hey! Wake up, you old geezer!” shouts Jack.

Fungus remains out cold. Jack growls. He’s about to yell when Dojo suddenly speaks.

“You release him this instant!”

A black brow of Jack’s quirks up. Looking down to his right hand, he sees Dojo pointing a clawed digit at his head. The redhead’s eyebrows descend, that pointing finger curling down. Progressively those narrow reptilian eyes widen, Dojo’s expression morphing into a sheepish smile.

Jack juts the dragon up to eye-level. Dojo pulls away slightly. His eyes meet Jack’s narrow reds in fear, the smile widening nervously. Shaky talons futilely attempt to get purchase under Jack’s grip around his body; another hand pushes against the redhead’s own.

“And who’s gonna stop me?”

“ _You?_ ” speaks Robo-Jack, humorous incredulity laced into the question. However, his focus is not on the dragon.

RJ walks up to Master Fungus. He smiles up at the old geezer, sharp grin still going.

“Ha, _right,_ ” starts Jack again, regaining Dojo’s attention. He pushes a finger into the dragon’s snout, Dojo cringing and attempting to pull away. Jack’s finger only follows Dojo’s backward lean. In the end, he’s pushing a bit harder whilst the loser pet frantically waves his arms; and the redhead abruptly swipes the finger to the right.

“Now be a good pet lizard,” requests Jack with false kindness toward Dojo’s swaying snout, “and tell Uncle Jack how you _losers_ managed to screw up _this time_.” His voice escalates to a near-yelling anger.

Dojo meanwhile grasps his snout to stop its movement. A nasal inhale passes, and Jack glares witheringly at the dragon.

“W-Why do you wanna know?” manages Dojo, minor contempt bleeding into his voice despite the evident fear. Talons lowering from his nose, Dojo sneaks a glance at the old fart.

Grabbing higher up the dragon’s body, Jack restricts the animal’s arms as a puff of air is forced from Dojo’s lips. Letting go with his other hand, Jack turns to face the area of interest to Dojo. He grabs around the dragons head with the thumb and index finger of his free hand. The tilt of Dojo’s head is forced up; the animal gulps when his eyes meet Jack’s

“Jack,” calls out the boy genius. The boy genius redirects Dojo’s sight ahead of himself.

“Hmm,” hums Robo-Jack, bringing a hand to his chin and crossing the other arm across his stomach. The limb on his head rubs, RJ walking slowly around the temple master, eyes raking up and down Fung. He’s barely through one revolution before Dojo’s eyes get a wild desperation in their wide depths.

Robo-Jack stops before master Fungus. The arm across his front lowers. Lowering the hand on his chin a measure, his fingers curl, forming a fist in front of himself. He opens and closes the fist, musing aloud, “I wonder how long before he wakes up.”

He lifts a foot and barely gets through the step.

“Wait!” pleads Dojo, arms pulling to get free from Jack’s grasp as he squirms. His predicament remains the same, limbs doing little else than tugging. “I’ll tell you anything you wanna know! Just don’t hurt Master Fung!”

‘ _Still got it,_ ’ affirms Jack, smiling evilly down at the dragon.

He lets go of Dojo’s head. Waving at his bot to chill out, Robo-Jack turns away from Fung, raising his hands in a placating fashion. The bot’s eyes close, his grin everlasting.

By the time Dojo’s head is turned to regard Jack warily, the boy genius sees no reason to keep holding him. So he gently tosses the animal a short ways from himself. Dojo yelps in surprise, Jack sending RJ a secret thumbs up

Dojo lands in a harmless heap. He picks himself off the ground, wiping himself off and muttering complaints that Jack couldn’t make out. When he’s done with that, the lizard looks up at Jack, the green animal’s ears lowering. Green talons come together nervously.

“Um, so what’ya wanna know?”

“Where are those losers? The whole place is deserted.” His hand shoots out to the side, referencing the temple’s current state.

Dojo’s eyes dart to the side. This time, though, Jack interrupts it by loudly clearing his throat. The dragon’s body tenses, his pupils looking straight back to Jack’s narrowing eyes. Lifting a hand, Jack puts a couple fingers upon the base of his nose, taking a breath and releasing it on a ragged sigh.

Removing the hand from his face, Jack juts it in Dojo’s general direction in the form of an angled, double-finger-gun, red eyes once again meeting cowering ebony.

“ _Look:_ Just answer the question and I’ll release the old fart.”

He almost said “might”. Almost.

Jack’s arms cross as suspicion laces Dojo’s eyes. Both orbs narrow marginally at Jack. “And how do I know you’re not lying?”

A fair accusation.

“ _Jack!_ ”

“ _Okay, okay!_ ” pleas Dojo in sudden desperation, hands waving for mercy at Jack. Despite this, his eyes dart to the temple master. Robo-Jack never even moves, amused reds meeting terrified ebony.

Dojo’s head jerks back toward Jack, hands coming together.

Jack’s brow raises, the boy genius giving him an expectant look.

“C-Chase Young must have them! Or at least I think...” That last part comes out hesitantly, given in far less of a rushing loudness than the first bit. Dojo wrings his hands

“He the one who did all this?” asks Jack. He lifts a hand, moving it in a circular motion.

“Uhm… no.”

“No?” parrots Jack, confused. A frown is already in the works.

Dojo looks to Master Fungus. Yet again.

Sighing in agitation, Jack turns to the Jack-Bot, muttering, “Let em go.”

“Be gentle!” begs Dojo further. The dragon’s talons re-clasp before Jack.

Stiffly, Jack turns back to his bot.

“ _Gently,_ ” he grounds out. The dragon is _lucky_ he’s neutral.

Jack takes an unsubtle glance at Dojo, glaring irritably and just barely managing to make out the animal turning back toward Master Fungus. He rolls his eyes, turning a dulling gaze on the Jack-Bot to watch it lower Fung into an eventual lay on the stone ground.

“So,” Jack flippantly starts, walking past Dojo, “what other idiots showed?” His eyes remain on the two sacks.

“Wel– _Hey!_ ” calls Dojo after him, “That’s _our_ Shen Gong Wu!”

“Yeah?” laughs out Jack, still going, “Well I’m not leaving these behind with just you and Sleeping Loser over there to guard them. Even _Wuya_ could steal them from your sorry butts.”

Jack stops before the sacks of Wu, picking them up. He turns toward Dojo’s angry yet helpless form.

“Unless you think you can stop me,” challenges Jack, evil smirk falling into place.

Each Guard-Bot lifts an arm, blasters taking aim for the dragon. Dojo’s anger swiftly drains into fear. His eyes widen comically for all of one second before he’s slithering off for Master Fung.

Robo-Jack snickers lowly at the speeding dragon, walking to Jack. He’s barely through his third step by the time Dojo passes by him. Barking out a cackle, his head swivels all the way around to watch Dojo go, grin wide with a few sharp teeth poking out.

Dojo slithers atop Master Fung’s chest, laying in a circular heap whilst the Jack-Bots halt their search and float over the surrounding buildings to give their hostile regard. Shakily, Dojo’s wide eyes wildly look in every which direction.

“Or,” offers Jack, crossing am arm across his stomach and outstretching an up-faced palm toward the duo, “you two losers tag along and be useful.” His red eyes lower to focus on Fung. “If possible...” he mutters. Robo-Jack reaches his side. The boy genius hands his double one sack, and they heft them over a shoulder each.

Jack snaps a finger, raising the hand with a swiveling index finger. The Jack-Bots make for him whilst the Guard-Bots lower their blasters. Dojo watches a number of them as they go and form two rows behind the Guard-Bots.

The animal seems to calm, brows drawing inward, though his frown remains.

“By the way,” Jack curiously begins, “just what happened to the old fart anyway?” From what he can tell, the relic hasn’t broken yet, so why is he so appropriately dead?

Dojo doesn’t seem to be paying that last question much mind, however; his eyes brim with a sort of disbelieving hope. “You… You’ll help me save my monks…?

‘ _Good grief,_ ’ grouses Jack. He starts to walk toward them, bots in tow, but growls and turns away from Dojo when that lower lip quivers.

“How else am I gonna stop _Chase?_ And if Wuya’s back, then I’ll need all the help I can _get_.” Not to mention a _gas mask_.

Just when he’s about to pass Dojo and Fung, Jack raises an arm and snaps twice in quick succession, jutting the hand’s index finger at Fung whilst he goes by.

A Guard-Bot steps up to Master Fung. Ignoring the wide-eyed dragon, it reaches down for the old man. Dojo yelps, flailing his arms, and falls off of Fung, allowing Jack’s bot to grab the old man around the torso. Dojo sighs in relief while it lifts Master Fung into the air.

The Guard-Bot moves to catch up with Jack, and Dojo nervously trails behind it, eyes relatively glued to Master Fung’s limp form.

“Now hurry up,” demand both redheads, only Jack saying, “I’d like to be out of here _before_ any of those morons comes by for a quick Wu.”

He keeps going, enjoying the symphony of grinding gears, heavy footfalls, and purring engines. The ruckus brings a half-smirk to his lips. However, he glances to his left, down at the ground. His expression dims, brows drawing together.

Jack swivels his head around. Behind the one Guard-Bot follows Dojo, worried eyes focused on the man held in the its hand.

The redhead stops, all bots doing so as well. Dojo nearly walks into the Guard-Bot’s foot.

Tapping his foot impatiently, Jack lets out an annoyed “ _ahem_ ” to get Dojo’s attention. When he has it, he motions to his left with an upturned palm toward the ground. “Are we working together or not?”

Dojo looks between the two Guard-Bots in front of him, taking one more glance at Master Fungus. His eyes trail from the old man to the bot’s headless torso. Gulping, he looks back toward Jack and dashes between the two hulking bots’ legs, slithering to Jack’s left side.

He looks up to Jack with a nervous smile, of which the redhead responds to with a wicked one.

Partners with a mystical dragon beats an old, ghostly, _ugly_ , **smelly** , _**nagging** _ hag any day of the millennium. Though whether the dragon will prove to be more _useful_ remains to be seen.

Jack turns back to his front, rolling his eyes with a grin at the nervous spreading of Dojo’s smile. He starts walking again.

“So, _again_ ,” annoyance lacing the word, “what other i-di-ots showed?” Better to ask now before the monks’ pet starts to take glances at Master Fungus.

“One quick question first,” Dojo more or less asks, Jack practically simmering in his glance at the dragon. He lets him speak nonetheless, the group passing the temple’s large garden area. “What did you mean by Wuya being back?” His question is followed by Jack and the rest pausing a short ways from the temple wall. The Guard-Bots step over the trio, Dojo’s widening eyes watching them perform the action.

Onward they lumber toward the wall. They don’t stop, and merely crash through it, rubble falling to the ground and bouncing off them as they pass unhindered.

‘ _Oh yeah..._ ’ recalls Jack whilst he eyes the destruction with nefarious appreciation.

Dojo’s eyes sadden at the sight, obviously not caring for the act.

‘ _Eh, what’s one more hole,_ ’ Jack dismisses, shrugging.

Walking, Jack speaks as Dojo takes a moment to catch up: “The Reversing Mirror and Serpent’s Tail were missing from the vault.”

“ _WHAT!?_ ” shouts Dojo, causing both redheads to cringe and lean away whilst walking through the hole with the scaled animal.

Both move to wave a scolding finger at Dojo, closing their eyes and saying, “Inside voices, please.”

“B-But rock golems,” sputters the dragon at them. “ _Big_ , _**huge**_ rock golems,” continues Dojo, raising his talons and spacing them out as far as possible.

Jack sighs exasperatedly. “Already had this conversation,” he whines out pointedly. He can practically feel Robo-Jack’s smug look on the side of his face. But he’s not giving the bot the satisfaction of him looking.

“Okay...” mumbles Dojo. Thankfully, the dragon doesn’t persist, but his look to the bag in Jack’s hand makes the boy genius sure another question is coming. “Wh–“

“Can we get to my question some time today?” Jack flippantly interrupts. He turns a sour look down at Dojo.

“Right…” mutters Dojo, shrinking back a measure. Jack turns his eyes back ahead. “Well, first there was Katnappe,” Jack shudders, “Vlad,” he glares, “Cyclops,” an upturn of his pale nose, “Tubbimurra,” red eyes roll, “and Wuya.” That last one gets a full-body shudder, Dojo now having five risen fingers with his other index finger over a pinkie in counting.

“Pretty much all your Heylin budd–“ Dojo _attempts_ to say nonchalantly, waving a dismissive talon.

“I am _not_ friends with those _disgusting_ _ **idiots!**_ ” both redheads all but shout at Dojo in unison with no short amount of hatred toward those _oh-so_ untrue words. He can deal with all the other annoying crap going on right now – maybe even remain calm had it just been those first four morons, but it will be a _freezing_ day in hell that he _**ever**_ takes that last insinuation.

“ _Not_ friends– got it,” amends Dojo with a placating smile, moving away from the angry boy genius and bot. Until he bumps into a Guard-Bot’s landed foot, its brief regard for him having him flea back to his original spot.

After a moment, he calms down, Jack and RJ glaring ahead.

“Sooo… does this mean you’re...”

Dojo lets the question hang in the air. Jack gives him a disgusted side-glace, nose crinkling.

“ _No_. And don’t **ever** ask that again, got it?” Anger is in every word. Dojo nods a few times in rapid succession.

“ _Anyways_ ,” interjects Robo-Jack, “they attacked, and then what?” Jack gives the dragon an expectant look.

Dojo’s expression falls into sadness, the dragon’s gaze lowering.

“Omi… and Chase saved us.”

“Okay, PAUSE!” declares Jack, and every bot does, the forest now only a short ways from them. Jack leans down toward the dragon, ear-first. “ _What_ now?” Robo-Jack looks over Jack to the dragon, brow almost quirking up to his hairline.

“Yeah,” murmurs Dojo, eyes losing their surprise rather quickly. He looks away again, toward the ground, and continues. “They saved us, and we got Master Fung back, but… we lost Omi.” Blinking a few times, Dojo wipes away a tear, sniffing. An angry expression replaces the sadness, though, fingers curling into fists to his front. “It was that Chase Young! _He_ tricked Omi into using the Ying Yo-Yo, causing him to lose his good half when he returned from the Ying-Yang World.”

Dojo’s angry mini-rant earns but a confused series of blinks from the duo. “The _what!?_ ”

“A parallel universe,” Dojo simply replies. “To get there, you need either the Ying Yo-Yo or the Yang Yo-Yo to open the portal. But both are needed to leave without losing your good chi.” He lifts a clawed hand with two risen fingers.

Turning to Fung, he frowns. “Unfortunately, when Omi went, he didn’t bring back Master Fung’s lost chi.” Sad eyes look up at the elder’s unconscious form.

The Wu just kept getting stranger, apparently.

‘ _Awesome.’_

“Alright,” acknowledges Jack, nodding, “So I take it Chase has those two Wu?”

“One of them,” answers Dojo, turning back to Jack. The redhead immediately frowns.

“And the other…?” An inquiring motion of Jack’s hand passes.

“I, uhh…”

‘ _Oh boy, here it comes...’_ Jack can already feel his work being cut out for himself.

“Kinda forgot where I put it.” Dojo smiles wide and sheepish, rows of sharp teeth showing whilst he looses a short chuckle.

Jack face-palms audibly, Robo-Jack groaning in the background. The limb remains on his face for a moment, Jack ripping it off to suddenly yell, “How the heck am I supposed to work with that!? Tell me it at least revealed!”

A hesitant shake of the dragon’s head has Jack raise open palms before himself, completely fed up, and turn to continue toward the forest with bots in tow.

‘ _That’s just great! So not only is the world down the drain, Chase ruling it, and Wuya possibly back – Chrome Dome’s evil, too, with **no return!** ’_

“That’s just great!” shouts Jack, arms shooting toward the sky.

“And you’ve _no idea_ where it might be?” comes Robo-Jacks disbelieving query at the dragon. Jack himself can hardly believe it. Yeah, they’re Xiaolin Losers, but this is pushing it.

“Well,” considers Dojo, a claw tapping his chin thoughtfully, “it might be in the Ying-Yang World.” He has the nerve to say it like it’s some sort of beginning to a solution.

“Wonderful. So why didn’t _you_ losers just go there and check?”

They reach the forest then, Jack walking up to a tree and leaning on its trunk. Dojo stands before him, Robo-Jack taking the boy genius’ right. All other bots enter the forest’s coverage, continuing a little deeper into it.

“Chase showed up before we could do anything! He –“ A pained look appears, Dojo seeming to have difficulty with his next words. “He made Omi fight us...”

“All of you?” asks an impressed set of Jack’s voice.

The dragon nods miserably.

Jack whistles while Robo-Jack breaks into hysterical laughter. The robot doubles over and falls backward, landing on the ground. Dojo glares at RJ.

Though Jack himself is unable to resist a light chuckle, saying, “Okay, so Loser versus Losers.”

A thought hits him, however, and he grins widely. Jack turns the look toward RJ, pointing at him excitedly. “Hey, how many losers does it take to end the world?”

Robo-Jack abruptly pauses mid-cackle and leans up. With a toothy grin, he raises a lone finger toward Jack, snickering uncontrollably. “Just one!”

Following the correct answer, the bot falls back down to the ground, rolling and laughing. Jack doubles over with cruel cackles, hands upon his stomach as he leans back against the tree.

Dojo’s unappreciative glare is largely ignored. It's waved off by Jack when he finally calms, the boy genius wiping a tear from his eye.

“Ah, chill out, lizard breath. We’ll have your losers back in no time.”

That last statement has Dojo’s demeanor change completely, those reptilian eyes widening with hope. “Really?”

The hope, however, morphs into a frown. “Then why are we just standing around?” Dojo motions unhappily to all the bots taking shelter in the forest’s coverage.

“We’re waiting,” answers Robo-Jack through ceasing chuckles, getting off the ground.

“What for?”

A tremble ensues, quickly building into rumbling quakes of the ground. Dojo’s eyes go wide with surprise, looking about the area. Jack regards the forest with a smirk, his double doing the same as they await its emergence.


	6. Chapter 6

“Look what Vlad found!” laughs out the Soviet idiot whilst he walks within Chase Young’s citadel. Gripped over his head is none other than _Robo-_ Jack.

The robotic boy genius deadpans to an expansive ceiling, nose mildly crinkled. His optics slide to the side, glowering at the sizable yellow dragon eye decorations lining the walls.

Vlad suddenly lets go; RJ’s eyes widen. Robo-Jack flails his arms as he falls, landing in a hard heap and grunting.

The dust gently settles around him.

Faking capture to Vlad has officially been annoying from start to finish. Why, just within ten minutes, exactly, Robo-Jack managed to lose count of how many times and ways the moron used that freaking play on his name. Though with how Vlad shook RJ to and fro – smirking that ugly, grotesque smirk – as he insulted Jack, minor memory malfunction seems fitting. Especially when that buffoonish laugh Vlad thinks passes for evil came booming from his ugly maw.

Those pits’ odor are another factor, since their aroma matches Vlad’s face: _sickening_. Retribution was and is a certainty, Robo-Jack feels, even if the ceasing of that particular sense had been _**im-me-di-ate.**_

Just another reason to be glad he’s a robot – an ever-growing list, as it happens.

Looking up from the ground, Robo-Jack sees the warlord himself: Chase Young. Displeasure lines every crease forming on his brow as a frown tugs at the corner of his lips.

RJ smiles sheepishly at the warlord.

Chase's reptilian eyes sharpen; his nose starts to flare– and is the rabid salamander’s jaw clenching, too...?

‘Perfect!' _  
_

The mood is set.

“Hey, Chase,” Robo-Jack greets, waving somewhat nervously. Getting up, he brushes himself off, giving Vlad a brief scowl. It’s an ugly that he’s happy to walk away from, no matter the danger that lies ahead of himself. Even if that danger seems to be angering further with each step Robo-Jack takes.

Nonetheless, he starts up an easy-going stride.

“I was just in the _neighborhood,_ ” drawls the fellow evil doer from down the block, stretching the word out, “and was wondering if you’d maybe...”

Robo-Jack stops, shrugging and rolling his eyes thoughtfully. His mouth opens, getting ready to spout the false proposal; but Chase let’s out a snarl that banishes what nefarious intentions are at play within his AI.

“Do not even _dare_ utter those **revolting** words, _**Spicer**_.”

The name’s spat out like a curse from Chase’s hate-filled scowl. Following the heart-felt, stressed words, a glow begins to form on the man’s forehead. Dim, but there nonetheless. Nine dots, Robo-Jack notes. One of Chase’s gloved hands audibly clutches next to his side; the action mirrors his intense scowl.

“Your absence has been nothing short of supernal, and I do not wish to cease the _good fortune_ _ **now,**_ ” roars the warlord’s declaration past Robo-Jack, echoing down the hall Vlad and the bot entered through...

Chase’s glare is actually darker. Somehow, some way, he manages it despite the ninety degree shifted Mark of Mount Chrome Dome that’s glowing bright on his head.

It’s the glare of death. The face of evil. Those yellow eyes’ narrow slits are practically cutting into RJ.

‘ _We’re never gonna beat this guy… he’s even more evil than before! Just_ **look** _at that scowl!’_

The slight uplift of debris around the warlord is definitely another relative, nice touch, too,

Robo-Jack only manages a few nervous steps backward before a chain sounds from behind. He gets partial visual on a large warrior of Roman origin, and the thick metal links impact RJ’s side. A long excess of the metal winds down and around his body, tightly restraining him. It stops with a sounding clank at his ankles. He’s left to hop a few times before falling flat to the ground on his front with an “oof”.

The warrior grabs him, lugging Robo-Jack over his shoulder like a toothpick. And then makes for a hallway. Chase takes his own leave then, Vlad smiling humorously at the robot.

‘ _Idiot,’_ thinks Robo-Jack at the sight of the brute’s ugly maw.

He’s happy when that one’s out of sight, a few seconds later amending to, _‘Idiots’_ with far more inward enthusiasm.

After a few turns, the warrior is descending rocky steps, dimly lit via ceiling lanterns. Many _jostling_ steps later and they finally arrive at the underground dungeon. The minion proceeds to take him down a long hall of jail cells bearing the same light source in a line down it. Each cell is rather roomy, separated by a sizable wall of rock, which is the general setting, save for the metal bars and constraints.

Robo-Jack’s eyes go to each cell they pass. His optics slide side to side.

Empty cells go by. And go by. And go by. And pass by… And pass by…

By the twentieth empty cell, he grows annoyed.

‘ _Figures. The one time things go swell and they’re probably not even here._ ’

Just when he’s about to look back to his right, the warrior suddenly drops Robo-Jack to his feet. His boots barely even hit the ground before he’s grabbed by the top of his head and lifted up. The large hand manages to block RJ’s view, him yelling, “Hey, what’s the b–“

He’s thrust within a cell, winding in mid-air for a second before his back smacks flat against a rock wall. Robo-Jack’s teeth and eyes clench from the force. His upside down form falls backward off the surface, small pieces of rocky debris following him to the ground. Then comes the gate’s resounding slam.

With a groan, RJ rolls onto his back, peering over himself to see the warrior already taking his leave. Light footfalls sound in the sudden silence.

“What?” he angrily questions, loud and incredulous. “No demeaning taunt before you leave me!?” Robo-Jack leans his head up further. “ _What kind of **evil** are you!?_ ” he shouts after the Roman warrior.

The slam was perfect, but the lack of a follow up insult to really rub things in makes it a waste. A quiet leave such as this is a sure sign that Chase isn’t training his men as well as himself.

It will be their downfall.

“Do you _have_ to be so loud?” The question’s groaned out and despondent, but more importantly, a loser monk’s voice. This is a scary (sore) loser at times, maybe, but at least not _petrifying._ Like one Soviet barbarian.

Robo-Jack looks to the back of the cell ahead of his, a triumphant grin at the ready.

The look thins out before he can get an evil declaration of victory out. She has a haggard appearance, outfit torn in a few places, dirt here, a small mark of dried blood there. Bruises and cuts mar her skin in a few places as well. However, it’s none of these things making Robo-Jack frown. No, not even Kimiko’s shackled hover against the wall.

…

There’s only _**one** _ loser within its natural habitat.

Ignoring her question and ill-regard for him, Robo-Jack lowers his head back down to the ground, brings his knees to his chest, and kicks up off the ground. He lands neatly on his feet. The bot shifts them for a moment, managing to turn toward the entrance of his cell whilst Kimiko watches him with incredulous eyes.

He hops a few times; the chain jangles as he goes. Stopping at the bars, Robo-Jack looks down Kimiko’s row – both sides, just in case.

Nothing. Not a single loser more.

He looks to Kimiko, eyes narrowing at her in a mixture of anger and distaste. She’s taken aback in a different sort of disbelief. It’s not a happy one.

Still.

“Where are the other losers?” Robo-Jack outright complains.

“What do _you_ care?” she hisses, blue eyes raking up his form; her nose wrinkles in revulsion. “Like you _didn’t_ come here to grovel at Chase’s feet.”

Turning to her with a risen brow, Robo-Jack merely sticks his tongue out at her. Kimiko rolls her eyes, and Robo-Jack chuckles at her. Opening his eyes from doing so reveals a scowling monk, though, and hostility is a visible possibility. He vaguely registers the mild, soft bulges on her arms tense. Then Kimiko’s fingers curling. However, there’s the distance thing, her being restrained, different cells, and – most importantly, he believes – their situation: One-Thousand Years of Darkness – Chase Young Edition.

The bot returns her _tired_ anger with a serene, sharp-toothed grin. Robo-Jack’s brows lower into a half-lidded stare, amusement dancing in his optics.

“You know,” she remarks snidely, his brow jutting up with a curious head-tilt at the calmer ember, “I’m impressed. You’re even _bigger_ _**slime**_ _–_ ”

She pauses mid-speech when his lenses pop out of their sockets. Six thin, long legs sprout from the bottoms of them whilst they fall to the floor. Kimiko mutters the statement only partially by the time they silently land.

They waste no time, darting out of Robo-Jack’s cell and down the hall. Kimiko’s surprised eyes watch them go.

She steadily frowns. Kimiko’s baby blues narrow. Obvious distrust paints her look when she regards Robo-Jack again.

“What are you after here…?”

Having nothing to do now, RJ falls backward onto the ground. A happy sigh escapes his lips. “Oh, you know, just groveling at Chase’s feet.”

His head rises slowly to look at her. Bit by bit, Robo-Jack’s sharp-toothed, vile grin is revealed to her, the loser coming into full view.

“They’re not here, are they?”

Asking stupid questions: Loser language. The flaring of her nostrils and clenching jaw proves him right. She understands perfectly. But more importantly, this is standard evil.

Thy shall wallow in fear and despair _together –_

 _Un-less…_ the heroes are properly demoralized, and it’s time to _ship em off_ to some evil, decrepit, lonely part of the world to live out their remaining pathetic days.

The Loser of Fire seems to be the only one to not live out that entire code of evil conduct.

RJ smacks his head back down with an annoyed groan. “ _Figures._ ”

This is why they should have come earlier. From the start – _not_ a couple hours later _._ In neither case – ugly wench or warlord gecko – was there an abundance of time to act. Wuya took less than _half a day_ to rule the planet, and Chase Young never once seemed like the kind of villain to not move things along at his own rampaging evil pace of sinister, diabolical dominance.

What was he _thinking!?_ Now they’re going to be here _longer!_ Seeing, _hearing, **speaking** _ to these _**LOSERS** **!** _

...

And _helping_ them.

…

Silence ensues, during which Robo-Jack dully stares at the ceiling. He huffs out a bout of air, rolling his eyes petulantly, yet still feeling a smile tug at his lips. Wanting to cross his arms.

‘ _Well, it could be worse. We could still be H–‘_

“Are you seriously just here for Wu, Jack?”

She actually sounds let down in him this time. For that alone, his jaw drops a measure when his head lifts to look at her. But he recovers, and the AI changes its mind, Robo-Jack dropping his head back down. He instead whistles innocently. Giving nothing.

“Hey,” Robo-Jack suddenly recalls aloud, “a little _**dragon**_ told me you–“

“What did you do to Dojo!” Her restraints audibly tense.

That isn’t a question at all. Hmm.

“– _guys_ ” he slowly continues at first, “got-pasted-by-Cu–“

“Jack. Spicer.”

The bot’s humor is put on standby for a moment by her cold tone. “If you–“

“Why are you assuming I touched Dojo?” Robo-Jack’s flippant complaint at the ceiling completely overshadows her voice. His head shakes, eyes narrowing at nothing. He leans up and raises an arm to point a wagging index finger at this particularly presumptuous loser. “Listen here _, **los**_ – **!** “

Kimiko’s baby blues are saucers upon him. The look causes him to question things. It takes Robo-Jack a bit to realize his folly while the girl blinks owlishly in his periphery; however, confused, thin black brows draw to one another.

Robo-Jack’s red optics trail down to his risen hand. They go lower, seeing the snapped joints of the chain that once held him. Now it only restrains his lower half.

“Oh well,” RJ shrugs, starting to slide the rest off, “not like–“

Something terrible has transpired.

A Lens-Bot’s signal is dead.

If Chase sees it, or his minions possess any sense of – okay, they can’t be _that_ stupid, can they? How many Vlad’s can there _be_ …?

“And we’re leaving,” declares Robo-Jack in a mild hurry, throwing the chains off without a care. The utterance of his actual name in realization goes ignored.

“Excuse me?”

She’s back to incredulous disbelief. No shortage of doubt exists, though the way her half-lidded eyes rake up and down his form again do tell even further of her value in his word.

Robo-Jack kicks himself up off the ground again, landing cleanly before the bars.

“The Lens-Bot,” Robo-Jack explains, bending two bars quickly, “that was going for the yo-yo got destroyed.” His clutching hands grip harder on the bent bars, indenting them heavily. RJ thrusts himself forward, going airborne at an angle. When at the apex of his fall, his arms extend over one another toward Kimiko’s cell, hands making finger guns. An intense, thin blue plasma beam fires from his index fingers, and the robotic boy genius swipes his arms out of their crossing.

His plasma projectiles die out. As the final remnants of the pale blue energy fade to nothingness, the room darkens back to its original dimness, metal bars falling noisily to the ground. Robo-Jack’s boots thud on the ground before Kimiko’s now open cell.

“ _We’re leaving,_ ” he emphasizes.

He steps into her cell, a blob of smelted metal falling onto his shoulder. He regards it as a mild pest, swatting it off like a fly. Looking back to Kimiko, a smirk blooms, and he pauses before the restrained girl to take in the Xiaolin Loser in action.

“Unless you really enjoy being strapped to the wall,” he chuckles out at Kimiko, shrugging. She glares at him reproachfully. He continues on toward her.

A large ember she may be, but a flame she is not yet.

Kimiko’s hard look only rescinds when he grabs onto each of the shackles keeping her legs held. RJ pulls them off easily, tossing them away in a hurry. Before she can dangle, he quickly stands, grabs the ones around her wrists, and pulls, taking a step away right after.

She lands relatively gracefully. On two feet, for sure. She even balances in a few seconds. And then glares up at him. Like it’s his fault or something. So he grins at a quarter of the mission being nearly completed.

The girl’s fist lifts.

Optics glowing a bright vermillion, Robo-Jack glares angrily at her approaching appendage. His hand tenses; the fingers spread, twitch, curl, twitch into a deeper curl –

He slaps Kimiko’s fist off-course, and she immediately grimaces, eyes proceeding to pop wide open as she’s thrown off-balance. “ _Hey_ , keep your filthy paws to yourself, Xiaolin _L_ _oser_!” sneers Robo-Jack. This time his eyes rake up _her_ form in disgust _,_ eyes losing their glow while the bot grouses out, “I don’t even let _me_ touch me.”

Robo-Jack takes a few _large_ steps backward, finding it hard to get any amount of amusement out of the loser monk’s wobbly stand. When Kimiko manages to not fall on her face, he’s rather let down, not particularly preferring the glare he receives instead, but the loser’s anger does help Robo-Jack find that amusement he’d been in search of.

Ember. Not flame.

‘ _Ember, Peb_ _b_ _le, and Breeze,_ ’ Robo-Jack declares, snickering to himself.

Whilst Kimiko rubs her wrists, RJ jumps into the air. His legs come together and transform into a sizable drill. She watches him with more of a sour frown.

Revving it up, he lands and immediately starts the dig, yelling, “Come on, we’ve got a looong way to go!” His displeasure at the fact bleeds into its saying. Thereafter, the bot’s head clears the underground.

“Great...” Kimiko mutters under her breath. Though it’s still heard by him, he’s having too great a time duping Chase Young to care. Furthermore: Loser.

“Hey,” Kimiko calls from the hole’s top. Robo-Jack looks up to see her head popping out with narrow eyes. “What did you two do to Dojo?”

Robo-Jack grins darkly at her. He chuckles. Then its a cackle at the memory, and when he next regards her, she’s beginning to crack the edges of the hole with her small hands, a feint red hue glowing to life.

“Nothing! Geez, Lizard Breath–“

“ _Dojo,_ ” Kimiko snaps at him.

“ _Dojo,_ ” he parrots back snidely, “is fine. Now where are the other losers?”

Something between a sigh and a growl passes from her lips, Kimiko whispering a curse to herself. But she jumps in and joins his descent. She doesn’t look at him as she catches up, and he decides on a moment of silence to let the loser attempt that thing called _memory_. Maybe the anger will help; who can really say.

RJ changes trajectory to allow the girl a more comfortable slide down. Her shorter height certainly helps with the endeavor. Light is being given off before Robo-Jack can activate the head-lights present within his lens-less goggles. He looks up to see Kimiko frowning, the girl maintaining a small flame in her right hand. She’s taking great interest in the passing rock.

The Xiaolin Loser shrugs.

Ingenious. What more efficient way is there, after all, to let another know you’re a clueless loser.

After a moment, Kimiko murmurs, “Chase took them.” She appears to not want to speak after saying the words, so Robo-Jack focuses on the dig, speeding up the process with an annoyed glower.

Of course Chase did. He probably taunted them whilst doing so, too, all without giving a clue as to where they were being taken. A true evil doer’s evil doer.

‘ _Well, maybe so’_ considers the bot’s AI mockingly, _‘but I’m an ex-evil doer’s evil doer,_ _ **LOSER Young!’**_

Speaking of The Losers: “So how’s Omi doing? Ego must be through the roof from beating the snot out of you three,” laughs out Robo-Jack. He looks up to see Kimiko’s baby blues narrowed like icy daggers at him. When she snarls at his true interest, he sputters, “What!? I didn’t see the cue-ball!”

“I’ve got a _better_ topic,” she states during a closing in for him. RJ leans only slightly away from her, frowning. “If you found Dojo, then you found Master Fung,” she points out. Robo-Jack raises an arm when her flame lights a bit, his frown turning to an agitated glower.

The bot growls in return and directs an aggressive smirk in her direction. His eyes narrow dangerously. Lips pulling apart, rows of sharp, serrated teeth like that on a shark reveal to the girl; her fiery glare of knives hinders him none, and the robotic boy genius tilts his head

His eyes rise to one side, steam puffing free from between his jagged rows. He raises a hand. Stroking his chin in wonder, Robo-Jack’s mouth opens, a mass of heated air escaping as he speaks. "Ahh – Who, Sleeping Loser?”

His head tilts the other way, RJ’s one black brow lifting in curiosity. The bot’s red eyes glow darker, his lips coming back together to merely grin evilly. He’s surprised to only get a low, exasperated growl from her.

“He’s fine.”

With that simple matter out of the way, RJ blinks, shrugs, and returns to watching his drill pierce the underground.

If Lizard Breath is okay, why wouldn’t the old fart be? _‘Sheesh. No trust.’_

Robo-Jack chuckles in false good nature at the thought. The space enlightens, him hearing the flame behind him crackle a few times. But after those few seconds, it dims back down to its original strength from the start.

His smile persists.

“You’re lucky I need you right now.”

Pfffffff– He has to clench his jaw to keep from laughing outright. His lips are sealed, though. No need to get a loser scuff. He can repair just about anything, but once a loser got their touch of failure on you, it’s all over, and you’re days are numbered. Iike the plague, but deadlier – world-wide.

‘ _Just look at the sky!_ _Even_ it’s _in_ _in evil awe of these bathroom dwelling losers_ _._ ’

The pestilence has spread and _continue_ _s_ to, so as far as this robotic boy genius is concerned, he may as well drill off to the side and let the Loser of Embers have her burnt out spotlight.

The rest of the way is quiet.

 

* * *

 

Leaning upon the Molar-2000, Jack stands in wait for his robotic counterpart, arms crossed and slowly drifting off. His head droops. Abruptly, it lifts back up, Jack’s eyes flying open.

Seeing the underground cavern still empty and illuminated by his large vehicle’s headlights, an annoyed growl leaves him, the ex-evil boy genius frowning. Lifting his wrist before his face, he activates the screen on his watch, taking note of the time.

Jack’s head falls back against the vehicle with a dull thud.

While he’s not looking forward to _any_ of the losers’ impending presences, the sooner they get here, the closer he’ll be to the end of this trip.

A sound from the ceiling gets Jack’s attention. Rocky debris begins to fall. Jack’s eyes widen excitedly when he hears the dull spin of Robo-Jack’s drill. When the bot finally pierces through the ceiling, falling into the cavern, Jack smiles triumphantly. Kimiko falls in after RJ, and Jack smiles wider. But when they land some yards to Jack’s front with no one else coming through the hole, his grin slowly turns into a sour frown.

“Hey hey,” calls Jack to his bot, approaching, “where are the other losers?”

“Weren’t there,” responds Robo-Jack, shrugging with raised hands, palms facing the ceiling.

Jack stops, immediately face-palming. “Wonderful,” he mutters, the word slathered in sarcasm. Running the hand down his face, he asks, “Did you at _least_ get the Wu?”

“ _Nope,_ ” replies RJ, passing Jack, “just one Loser of Fire.”

“Call me that one more time an–“

“And what?” snorts out Robo-Jack, flippant and mocking. He laughs aloud, continuing toward the Molar-2000 as Jack finishes with, “You’ll _extend_ the one-thousand years of darkness?”

Kimiko takes one amazingly threatening step toward Jack, steam rising from her whilst he grins, the cockpit to his vehicle opening. Robo-Jack leaps into the Molar-2000, and the girl stalks toward Jack..

“Temper temper, Kimiko,” taunts Jack, waving a finger that the girl eyes with orbs that are undoubtedly aiding an imaginary snapping of it, “you wouldn’t want Dojo or Fung to be squashed when we get back, would you?”

Jack lifts his watch after the threat. He poises a finger over one of its side-buttons. She stops in her tracks, but wow are her icy baby blues incinerating him with her current glare. Her exposed shoulder muscles bulge, their small rotund forms becoming more distinct. He ignores the taut porcelain skin by looking to her forming fist instead.

Dainty, smaller fingers, dirtied and strong, shake just so. However, the long sleeve of her top is partially burnt off, and the revealed portion of her lithe arm draws his attention upward. But the limb moves, so back to her fist he looks, until it lands on her hip.

His eyes dart down and away from there, and at the first sighting of porcelain anything in his peripheral, shoes become the pinnacle of interest. Dull, boring, dirty, _ugly_ Xiaolin shoes.

Perfect.

The last thing he needs is to take in any more of Kimiko's battle-ridden attire. Maybe she did lose, but there’s little doubt in his mind that Kimiko didn’t return all the molten fire in the world to whom ever…

He pauses in his still-going evil machinations (that may or may not be a bluff) to ponder. His brows draw together, the evil smile lessening to a thoughtful grin.

‘ _Oh yeah. Omi. Huh.’_ Okay, so maybe not _all_ the fire in the universe after all. Less than he’d get in any case, but still: Kimiko very apparently pushed back in the very least. After all, those burns on her loser uniform didn’t come from _water_.

Jack grins wider at her mildly tarnished shoe-wear, eyes narrowing with a return of his evil grin. Back to the icy daggers of her eyes go Jack’s nefarious reds.

“Now,” begins Robo-Jack, sitting upon the vehicle’s open cockpit, “we’ve a proposition for you, _monk_.” The abnormal usage of a proper noun seems to peek the girl’s interest, if mildly, her expression losing some of its hostility. Robo-Jack’s hands lift to his goggle’s empty lens sockets, a replacement in each, and twists them into place.

The redheads cross their arms, eyeing Kimiko with frowns.

“Really," Kimiko drawls.

They sneer out the same word in a girlish mockery of her sarcastic tone; Robo-Jack’s hands raise and imitate blabbing mouths. A disgusted eye roll passes from the girl. Her head shakes lightly.

“We help you losers take down Chase Young,”

“And we part ways _immediately_ after.”

“Ya got that?” they jeer.

Jack really, really hopes to keep things short, but Kimiko’s narrowed orbs make it obvious that it’s not happening.

She snorts. Jack’s frown deepens just a tad.

“ _Right._ ” Crossed arms accompany her sarcastic agreement. “Until you decide to **back-stab** me, like you do to us _every_ _ **time.**_ ”

Jack shrugs, uncaring. “ _Wh_ _a_ _at-_ ever. Like you have a choice.”

He turns and begins walking back to the Molar-2000.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean, _Spicer?!"_

There it is. The first saying of his name as if it’s a curse. Far different than Dojo's (rightfully) fearful recognition. Yet far more, the boy genius knows, are to come.

Just a pleasant reminder of the evil old days.

Chuckling as he gets in, Jack yells, “Well, unless that Jermaine kid shows up at some point,” hefting himself into the cockpit and onto its long seat, “your options for alliance are lookin’ kinda...”

Sitting comfortably, Jack riaises his hands. Using his thumbs, Jack pulls his goggles’ lenses off his forehead, finishing with, “ _limited._ ”

Releasing the elastic band, a low pop sounds as the goggles re-cover Jack’s widow’s peak. He and Robo-Jack turn to one another; rising grins adorn their faces. The duo breaks out into an echoing guffaw. Their backs press into their shared red seat as uncontrolled cackles go toward the ceiling.

“Haaa,” exhales Jack, the ending to his laughter coming with a finger wiping at his eye. But he blinks and brings the hand to his chin. Then he looks to Kimiko, pointing at her simmering form. “Actually, you’d be screwed then, too, since I’m betting Loser Young _didn’t_ tell you where he shipped them off to.”

The declaration ends with an inquiring tilt of his head toward the monk. A sinister grin splits his face as her glare hardens.

“Now, I’ve got two other losers to rescue before going for the cheeseball, so if you wouldn’t mind helping me fix _you_ losers’ screw-up, that’d be great.” By the end of that bit of speech, he’s no longer smiling. They glare sourly at the girl, equally uncaring for the circumstance. And carrying just as much accusation in their red eyes.

Of which is incredible. On _her_ part. At least somewhat, because who’s job is it, again, to keep this world out of centuries of darkness? _**Not**_ _his_ , last **he** , _**Jack**_ _Spicer,_ ex- _evil boy genius_ , checked!

Kimiko closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath through her nose while his brow rises, curling her fingers into tight fists. However, the tremble of her hands lessens, and she lets out a plume of heated air, her shoulders losing their strain as well.

She breathes in again, this time less. Her fists release. She exhales. Then Kimiko opens her eyes, regarding him with more of a glower.

“If you turn on me,” she begins slowly, “I _swear_ I’ll make you regret it, Spicer.” The hardened focus of her blues promise him as much. Make him more than sure she’d burn her way through as many bots as needed.

Her last hit upon his being flashes in his memory. Followed closely by a chill running down Jack’s spine without his permission.

Apparently it shows on his face, because a smug grin is on Kimiko as she approaches. It’s as if she knows that particular memory has resurfaced.

Looking to his front, Jack groans to himself, head lowering between his shoulders. Good comebacks, and _reinforced_ ones at that. How’d he _ever_ forget.

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry up,” mutters the boy genius.


	7. Chapter 7

' _Finally,_ ' thought Jack when Kimiko jumped within the Molar-2000, seating herself all the way on the other end of the long red seat within its cockpit. A lean was even added in, Jack's eyes widening a bit when he, too, began to go into one of his own thanks to Robo-Jack. Monk and bot gave each other dirty looks whilst Jack's annoyance spiked at his forced tilt going a bit further, sending a glare his bot's way.

Elbowing his double roughly, the metallic redhead yelped loudly with a small jump, turning to crossly yell, "What was that for!?"

"Boundaries!" hollered the boy genius back at the side-rubbing robot.

" _Loser!_ " pointed out RJ. One hand was shaking in its tensed claw-like motion at Jack, the other leaving his double's side to point at the offender.

Starting the engine with the push of a button, Jack yelled over its beginning roar to life, "Yeah!?" Grabbing Robo-Jack's collar, the teen yanked his bot's head nearer, "Well I'm here, too! So join the club!" He ended it with a shove, RJ immediately grabbing the seat to halt movement in _that_ direction. A direction that was steadily growing warmer.

Hmm…

Jack looked to Kimiko, Molar-2000's engine having already gone down to a calm rumble. He blinked twice at her angry form, Robo-Jack slowly re-leaning into him.

" _Drive._ "

Shrugging at Kimiko's _heated_ demand, Jack's foot slammed down upon the acceleration. He got a wonderful view of those blue eyes when they widened in shock, pink lips parted very momentarily before they all sunk back into the red cushion of the seat. Then came a hard impact when the vehicle crashed into the rock wall, jostling them around before beginning its quick travel via evisceration through the underground.

"Oh yeah!" Called out Robo-Jack with raised fists.

"Check it and weep, _Loser_ Young! We're outta here!" continued Jack whilst he guided the Molar-2000 in its tunneling, engine going healthily.

When he turned to Kimiko, though, it seemed she was not sharing their enthusiasm. No, she seemed more inclined toward burning him right in his seat with her current look upon him.

"What? You said 'drive'!" The pointing out of the very valid fact, for whatever reason, seemed to anger her further, making him now lean away with his bot, this time very much of his own will. Her blues were now slits upon her glare at them, that pretty mouth parted slightly to show grit teeth. "You ride on liz–"

" _Dojo_ is **trust** worthy for starters, _**Spicer**_ ," Kimiko nearly seethed crossly, "Second, ' _drive_ ' does not mean _step on it!_ "

"Where's the fun in that?" an eyebrow raised in true confusion upon Jack's face beside his bot's wary frown.

" _Nevermind._ _"_ Arms crossing with with a more pointed look of restrained agitation, "Where are we going?"

"Forest near the temple," answered Jack, both bot and himself shrugging amidst sitting normally. Robo-Jack, though, wasted no time to kick his feet up on the portion of the dashboard near him, getting even more comfortable by moving his hands to his head's rear.

Jack gave him a sideways glower, eyes returning to his drive with a mumbled, "Lucky..."

"What _else_ did you find at the temple?" Kimiko asked, an accusatory edge to her voice.

"Oh, the Wu? Bagged em," Robo-Jack only saying the last bit with his creator.

"Excuse me?"

" _Took them before the morons,_ " groaned the boy genius out with such vehement distaste, intently focusing on his driving. Robo-Jack moved his goggle's strap to cover his ears, grasping the swirly eye sockets then with a hand each and moving them over the band to cover said ears. Music emitted lowly from them in but a second, hands returning to their previous position behind his head.

Jack gave him the sourest look he could muster with one eye and half a mouth, Kimiko, of course, having something to say during it.

"And why would you do that?"

"You know what?" came Jack's sudden fed up query at her. " _You're_ coming up with the next move," the first word coming out in a near-yell.

It was amazing how that pretty face went from beginning ire to taken aback mystification. Her eyes were not so thinned anymore.

"W- _What_?" came her incredulous reply after a slight head-shake.

"You heard me. When we get back, **Dojo** can tell you _everything,"_ extending it slowly, "you need to know. Which, considering, isn't much," ending the declaration's comment lightly.

" **You** want _me_ to plan our next move?"

" _Part-ner-ship,"_ seethed the boy genius whilst returning his look to the vehicle's navigation, "I'm **not** doing all the work."

A silence went by with nothing but earth being dug through, the dumbest utterance of "A girl" getting his attention to see her pointing at herself as she eyed him with disbelief.

Snidely he replied with, "You actually going somewhere with this?" hand even coming off the wheel to motion its index finger into a swirl, his head shaking. What the heck did that have to do with anything? And why did this _**still**_ need explanation? Wasn't this girl **smart**!?

Her glare returned with a brisk "Forget it," both turning to their fronts.

"Whatever," muttered Jack, moving his own goggles to the same position as his bot's.

He payed her no mind whilst he drove his Molar-2000 the rest of the way, focusing on his music. No, his genius was going to take a well-deserved break.

* * *

The Molar-2000 emerged, engine roaring amidst the drill's massive slices through air. The vehicle kicked up a large portion of trailing dirt whilst it righted upon the ground, driving a short distance within the forest before coming to a stop. Jack moved his goggles back into their original position, deactivating the engine immediately after. Wasting no time, he opened the hatch, both redheads quickly jumping out and landing with dual sets of boots thudding on the dirt.

Through the forest they started to walk, toward its nearby side. Not three steps into that process and there came the dragon, slithering over in a hurry with those talons reaching outward towards _him._ Green arms beginning to wave whilst the redheads leaned away with frowns as they walked, "Did you find the– _Kimiko_!" Dojo's pace managed to actually increase, slithering with outstretched arms and falling tears, both redheads simultaneously shuddering and taking a few leftward steps away from his impending passage. Both for the tears and just-beginning trail of _dragon snot_.

Jack heard Kimiko greet the dragon happily from his rear, quickening his stride with Robo-Jack, dragon speeding by a second later. By the time Dojo made the discovery, having already sobbed out his worries to Kimiko, all that Jack was able to pick up was a sad "Where" before he was beyond eavesdropping distance – thank non-goodness – and RJ swiftly began to strike up conversation.

"So what do you think the loser will come up with?"

"Who cares," Robo-Jack immediately giving Jack a pointed deadpan at the angry dismissal. Jack's brows scrunched up at the look, raising a finger to his lower lip in thought and turning his sight lower. "Oh right, we do…"

They stopped next to a tree, one of his Guard-bots knelt down beside it for coverage along the forest-side. Turned toward the temple were it and all other Guards, looking past the grassy field that came before. Perimeter watch was overseen by the second revisions.

"Ah, I'm sure one of those morons will show up before then." dismissed Jack with a wave at his bot. He turned with a grin at his much larger one near him, his beginning smirk going into an immediate frown. There was a patch of blue and white that he could see past the tree's leafy blockage of the sky. Getting a better look through the branches, the bright colors amidst the otherwise dark sky was revealed to be… Sleeping Loser, held within the Guard-bot's large hand.

Robo-Jack grabbed his shoulder suddenly, lightly shaking while quickly whispering, " _Losers, twelve o' clock._ "

"How am I suppos–" began Jack angrily whilst turning, his eyes narrowing into a frown upon sighting the hot-head and lizard breath approaching.

"Great," muttered Jack, slight slouch to his person. Following a sigh, he and Robo-Jack regarded the approaching losers with unamused frowns. He saw the dragon point, it obviously being at the old fart. Kimiko's eyes followed, clearly seeing the man through the leaves and branches before her eyes moved to focus solely on him. They narrowed. Sourly, he stared back.

"Put him _down_ ," demanded the girl once a few feet away, finger jutting toward the ground. Clearly she was led by the dragon. The _pest_. To think he'd actually given into the idiot's plea for gentleness earlier.

"Guard-bot, put _the old fart down_."

The moment Dojo's mouth opened, the redheads hollered " _GENTLY!_ " at him, dragon immediately taking cover behind Kimiko whilst the bot stood. Kimiko's eyes raised with it in a wide-eyed stare at the Guard-bot. And dammit he really needed to stop seeing that. Not to mention those pink lips parting in surprise. Honestly, haggard appearance or not, she still looked absolutely breathtaking, making him rip his eyes toward the bot before he could even think about staring.

The Guard-bot took two large steps around the tree to their side, metal feet hitting the ground with audible impacts, light trebles being produced. Activating their heli-packs, the two redheads moved and landed some feet away to allow it to place Sleeping Loser in an upright sit against the tree. Kimiko looked to Fung for a few seconds, her blues returning to the bot when it stood upright at its full twenty feet once more, moving back to its original position. When there, it knelt down again, upper chassis tilting to once again regard the temple.

Dojo swiftly ran up to the old man, Kimiko turning to Jack meanwhile with drawn together brows. "Guard-Bot?"

"Yeah, what of them?" He didn't care if he asked it rudely, even if she seemed mildly impressed at the present. _She_ was supposed to be coming up with some sort of plan, _not_ bothering **him**.

" _THEM!?_ You have more!?" Yelled the girl at him with a slight beginning sputter. And, as is always the case when in her presence, anger came: "You _idiot!_ If you have more, why didn't you just fight Chase yourself!?"

"Gee, "began Robo-Jack with false confusion, finger tapping chin, "I wonder why? Oh yeah," faking realization with a happy smack of a fist into his left palm.

" _I'M NOT DOING **EVERTHING**!_ " they both yelled at her, hands fisted to their sides with a forward lean.

"I am **not** losing all my bots to some stupid, _hot-headed_ scheme that's gonna get me captured! So if you think–"

" _Fine!_ How many of them _do_ you have then, Mama's Boy!?" Her smug smile at his hateful glare angering him further.

"As many _brain cells_ as your father had when Pan–" and oh wow was he happy to have been pulled up into the air by Robo-Jack in time before that fire-ball hit, smacking into a tree and promptly singing it. Honestly, he hadn't realized what he'd been saying until the tree's fiery destruction. However, he did hate that particular insult.

However-however, her intense scowl at him had him figuring that maaaaybe that was a little much. Regardless, his hands flew up before him – also keeping his bots at bay – his own heli-pack now activating alongside a sheepish smile's formation, allowing RJ to release him.

"Sorry…"

It slipped. He remembered her crying that day, _and it slipped. CRUD._

And for some reason, it washed all that anger away from her, a wouldn't-you-know quick, "What?" flying from her mouth – blues on _full display_ – before he could even manage to take it back. Before Robo-Jack even.

…

_Why hadn't Robo-Jack taken it back?!_

Dropping to the ground, though, he couldn't help but go with it since she wasn't about to incinerate him anymore. Plus, it just felt… for _some_ unjust reason… right.

"Umm… I'm sorry?" he smiled awkwardly, completely in unfamiliar territory. This was how it was done, right?

She eyed him a moment. He was not brave enough to try to decipher the look, Kimiko soon closing her eyes with a sigh, steam exiting that little nose as the long exhale went by. "Just get me the Wu, Spicer."

"Okay," shrugged both redheads, Jack incredibly glad for the previous subject's dismissal. Raising his watch, he glared at Robo-Jack whilst pressing a button. Where was this idiot ten seconds ago? In response, RJ pulled his left lower eye-lid down, tongue shooting out at creator. Jack returned it, two second model Jack-bots bringing over a bag of Wu each.

The bags were dropped in front of Kimiko, Jack-bots making for their leave with Jack swiftly tailing behind alongside his double. Robo-Jack, though, was chuckling by his side, covering his mouth with a hand. Jack eyed him with a raised brow in their walk. The bot, after seeing his creator's confusion, leaned toward Jack with a hand raising to his mouth's right side.

Pointing a metallic thumb at their rear, hidden by his frontal motion of it, "She's never gonna get anywhere with that."

At his continued confusion, the bot deadpanned at him, "The Wu? They're all useless."

"Ohhhhh," realized Jack, grin slowly forming after. "Let's keep this between us." Robo-Jack wasted not a second to return a wide, sharp-toothed version the look with an added thumbs up at the plan. The girl probably wouldn't listen anyways. Better to let her find out on her own, unless he felt like having another joyous, flaming-projectile ending conversation. And he'd really rather not chance it, no matter how pretty the sender.

"How long before she realizes it, though?"

Feeling much more sure of it this time: "Who cares." He didn't even look at the bot.

As far as he was concerned, they were on break. Over-watch. Whatever. The simplest plans were always the most satisfying ones anyways.

"Okay," the word being stretched, "then what are _we_ going to do?"

"Don't know about you," started Jack whilst pressing a button on his watch, the Molar-2000 audibly moving from its position, "but I'm catching up on that twelve."

The vehicle stopped in front of them, hatch opening. Jack activated his heli-pack, flying within. He lied upon the long red seat, calling "Let me know if any of those morons show." Then the hatch closed, boy genius pulling his goggles over his eyes.

Meanwhile, Robo-Jack turned toward Group Loser, watching from his distance as the dragon and girl looked through the bags and talked, old fart still sat against that tree. A shudder went through him at just their sight, promptly looking elsewhere, optics stopping on a particularly large tree. He flew up into the tree of great height, sitting upon a high-up branch. To the temple he looked, optics extending outward like binoculars. He twisted and turned the dials on each cylinders' base, getting the focus right.

He _really_ hoped Vlad showed his ugly face.

* * *

Robo-Jack's eyes nearly popped out of his elongated sockets when he saw them – when he saw _him_. Straight down the tree he jumped from his branch, lengthened optics retracting whilst the bot broke through much wood on his way down. He landed with a hard thud of his boots against the dirt, momentarily righting himself before sprinting for the Molar-2000.

Reaching it, Robo-Jack immediately began to bang on its side with a metal fist's underside in a flurry of hits, yelling, " _Hurry up, you idiot!_ " with unrestrained excitement. He was now grinning for more reasons than he cared to think about.

Hatch opening, Jack slowly peered out at his creation with a hateful glare. The prick nearly made him fall onto the acceleration pedal in the abrupt and loud awakening from his before-hand peaceful slumber.

" _What?_ " spat creator to invention, eyes narrowing at his double's current gleeful excitement.

"The morons–"

"They showed?" came his sudden happy query, eyes widening hopefully and sitting up straighter.

" _Yes!_ " answered Robo-Jack, fists at his front in excitement as well.

Jack wasted no time to activate his heli-pack, Robo-Jack's own blades joining his creator's whirring whilst they took to the air. Once at a satisfactory altitude, Jack produced a pair of binoculars from his trench coat, asking, " _Where?_ "

The bot snatched the binoculars from Jack, putting them to his eyes before turning the boy genius' head appropriately, Jack's grin growing while he looked. When he saw them, especially that Soviet idiot, it turned toothy, Robo-Jack announcing, "I present to you: _morons_."

"And aren't they moronic," replied Jack in mocking awe, grin going sinister with all the possibilities as he watched the four Heylin approach the temple. There was the one-eyed red moron, the fat ninja, the soviet edition to idiocy, and Cat Breath. Jack turned to Robo-Jack then, bot returning the evil look as they chuckled cruelly in their descent toward the ground.

Landing with hands coming together with villainous intent, Jack let out a loud cackle, those hands moving to his front in an arch, fingers tensed like claws. Bots from all around the forestry were moving toward him, Robo-Jack having signaled them internally. Amidst the heavy footfalls of the Guard-bots and roaring rocket thrusters of the Jack-bots came a shout of, "Hey!" from his side.

Turning, he saw Dojo's much larger form land within the forest, Kimiko jumping off the dragon after. The dragon shrunk back down, getting the girl's attention to say something quickly, Kimiko nodding at Dojo with a smile. After that, the animal ran off for Sleeping Loser.

"Aww man," muttered Robo-Jack, losing his enthusiasm, "I was hoping they'd still be gone…"

Kimiko walked over to them, seeming like she had something to say until she took notice of his bots' formation around him.

Stopping a few feet from them, she asked suspiciously, "What's going on?" They were in the beginnings of her anger already, he could tell.

Jack looked to Robo-Jack for a moment, the bot's wide-eyed, pointed stare suggesting he wished vehemently to leave the monk behind. Turning to regard her again, she had a brow raised, hand coming upon her hip in expectation while her patience visibly thinned. With a sigh, his decision was made.

"My bot," head inclining toward the now-groaning Robo-Jack, "saw Heylin morons going to the temple. We're going."

"What happened to me making the next plan?" she asked crossly.

Before she could go on, he defended, "Hey, we've been watching the temple since before we broke you out of Chase's lair."

"So you lied," Kimiko stated with a pointed look at him.

"What? _No!_ " He immediately denied indignantly, a slight whine being mixed within. At her unmoved expression, he continued, " _Fine_ , what do you want to do, oh great leader?" A slap sounded from his right, Jack looking to see Robo-Jack to have face-palmed somewhat harshly. He smirked at the bot's annoyance. Looking back to the girl, he prompted far more politely, "Well?"

Robo-Jack could make all the complaints he wanted, verbally or physically, as far as he cared. They tended to be amusing anyways, like the current. That, and the decision on the matter was still his.

She regarded him again, _now_ seeming… surprised? It was a brief expression, the girl sobering quickly before she spoke, "I was able to get a good look at them from the sky on Dojo using the Falcon's Eye," she explained, producing said Wu from a pocket, Jack being unable to suppress his grin's surfacing.

"And?" gestured the boy genius, sure she was going somewhere. Loser monk, perhaps, but dumb she most certainly was not. And she hit hard. Harder than anyone else he'd ever been hit by. And he felt that, too, was pretty tight in its own right. Considering the amount of those there were…

She actually smiled somewhat, saying, "Katnappe had the Crystal Glasses on her. If we're going to find Clay and Rai, we'll need that Wu to do it." She finished with a sure nod, a measure of excitement held within. Jack's grin went toothy.

"So?" he prompted excitedly, fists raising. He _really_ just wanted to _go_ already. It was time to fight! Time to embarrass _each_ and _every one_ of those moronic, **disgusting** past partners. Vengeance was at hand! Soviet idiot included! Robo-Jack and the rest of his automatons looked to the temple. Robotic double and Guard-bots got into a running stance, the latter in a low kneel forward.

Kimiko looked to his inventions then, eying them with a beginning frown. "I don't suppose you'd mind leaving a few of those here?"

"What for?" some annoyance slipping into his question.

She looked at him then with an irked deadpan. "Uh, hello?" motioning toward old fart and dragon, Jack looking to see the latter… rubbing the still-unconscious former's feet. " _Not_ taking them."

Swiftly looking away and to his bots, he flippantly replied, "Fine." An arm lifted to point at a Guard-bot "You," then to a Jack-bot, "you," then another, "and you." His finger swiped toward the old fart and dragon, "Guard those two losers until we get back."

The bots slumped as they went over to the two, Guard-bot moving to lean against the tree that Sleeping Loser resided in a leaned sit upon. It slightly creaked to the side, the sizable bot having its three pronged hand upon the tree's side in a resigned stand, blaster raised nonetheless while the two second revisions moved beside it. He heard the pest say something amidst his terrible current occupation, but Jack ignored it whilst frowning at the three bots. Robo-Jack, however, heard it to be a begrudging "thanks", though he ignored it as well, metal head beginning to lull backward upon his shoulder in boredom as he waited with the other bots.

"Hey!" called Jack to get their attention, the three bots regarding him, a quick creak of metal passing. "After this, we _all_ kick moron butt!" His evil grin was heightened by their sudden raising of their guns further, Guard-bot moving its hand from the tree and fisting it to its front. The happiness swiftly went to worry, though, when a rather loud electric char–

" _ **DOWN!**_ " shouted both redheads with an outstretched point, those blasters lowering just in time to fire straight into the ground. The earth below his boots shook from the Guard-bot's immense blue shot alone, Jack knew, turning to his partner sheepishly; the other two would probably not even result in a treble from the distance.

Kimiko, though, was looking at him with something akin to incredulity. She was pulled back slightly, eying him... warily? What was with–

"Didn't _you_ work with these people?"

" _ **Why**_ are you ruining this moment!?" began Jack with sudden intense anger – why the _heck_ did she have to bring **that** up **_now_.** "We all know," he started again whilst motioning to his bots, "where you're going with this, _monk_ , so do us a favor," he began with rude politeness with free hand upon his chest, "and _stop wasting **our time**!_ " he progressively yelled out.

" _I_ like to be _sure_ which way the **snake's** head is turned," she angrily declared at him with no short amount of fiery warmth.

He grinned sinisterly at that. Honestly, how could he waste such a declaration of evil upon himself? Even if he was neutral. They didn't need to know. Not yet. They hadn't asked. Not _specifically_.

Crossing his arms, "Well now you know, " stretching out his right only, "so can we go now?" His enthusiasm was spent, the Guard-bots standing with crossed arms now, feet lightly tapping the ground. Robo-Jack was leaned upon one of their still legs, head just now slamming back against the metal limb in a bored stare at nothing. They awaited the command.

Suspicion was now all that remained on Kimiko's face, eyes narrowing at him. But it soon began to form into a slight scowl. " _I_ get **Katnappe** and the Wu," she stated with unwavering vehemence, there being a decent amount of warm venom within it. He very, very briefly wondered what the cat freak did.

"And _I_ get _everyone else_ ," responded the two redheads, " _Especially_ that _Russian **moron,** who I'm gonna send **packin'** , straight through this evil sky!_" they declared darkly, fists forming before themselves, ominous laughter following. His enthusiasm was back. Screw the monk. This day could not be ruined.

"Go?" asked Jack with restrained yet impatient excitement. Katnappe's fate was also of interest, but Kimiko's sudden beginning serious look into his red eyes made him slightly worried of his own. He swiftly frowned, backtracking somewhat in his posture with wary confusion. She just might have been about to hit him for the number of Guard-bots for all he knew. And though Chase may not have been pleasant in any sense of the word, the warlord never _one-hit_ him straight in the face at any point in his life. So yeah, he leaned away, though he did maintain eye-contact whilst she spoke.

"I can trust you?"

He sighed exasperatedly, leaning back into a straight stand. Glowering at her, he said, "Are we really _still_ on this?"

"Let me put things in a way even Cowboy Hat could understand: things bad now," pointing to the ground with a head-shake in the positive, " _Me_ ", the hand moving upon his chest, "help _losers_ ," pointing to her, then toward the other portion of glaring Group Loser before back again, "get things _normal **again!**_ **"**

His anger suddenly went to happiness, though: "Then **_GOODBYE, LOSERS!_ "** announced himself and all assembled automatons, the two redheads smiling toothily with joy toward the temple, now, with hands fisted upon their hips.

" **MOVE.** "

Oh, they moved. Jack couldn't have done so quicker, his strides long before his heli-pack's activation, the dirt below his sprint kicking up. RJ did so too as the Guard-bots took continued strides. The second editions tailed their metal masses in the group's rapid approach for the temple. Ahead of his automatons flew Jack and his robotic clone, their rotors sounding off in a high set of whirrs, blades moving them quickly through the air and out of the forest. Their excitement was at its pinnacle, grins splitting their pale faces at the impending vengeance despite their way of travel's natural resistance, trench coats constantly billowing with its passage.

Jack looked back during their speedy approach for the temple through the dimly lit grass field, noticing a small red splotch steadily approaching.

"Ha!" laughed out Robo-Jack from Jack's right whilst they flew ahead, "she finally found them?" never turning in his happiness.

"Yup," replied Jack, now seeing her more clearly with a fiery trail upon metal shoes. The Jetbootsu.

Turning back to RJ, "Have them enter through the front." His order was met with a smirking nod, Jack looking backward this time for his bots. They took a sudden turn to the left within the grass field, heading for the appropriate side of the temple. He turned back to his front, both redheads releasing dark chuckles.

Bots now well into their own route, the Jetbootsu's rockets were clearer now, quickly getting louder as Kimiko caught up to them. Looking to his right, past Robo-Jack, he saw her align with them, though a bit of a distance away. She, however, never removed her eyes from the temple, them narrowed fiercely. It began to form into a scowl he'd only seen once. But this one was managing to get even more intense, Jack backtracking in his stare before turning away. Jack couldn't help but vehemently look forward to seeing Cat Breath's impending fate.

And every other morons'.

Though he was going to stay as far away from Katnappe as possible.

But he began to smile, thinking on his own fun while he too looked toward the temple as they now came upon it.

Landing before the wall with Robo-Jack, Kimiko doing the same simultaneously some feet away on the _other_ side of the gap between the wall, they began to run for said gap immediately as they snickered lowly. Kimiko got there first, rushing in before them, Jack hardly caring since she was technically leader of this scheme. They got there not long after her, quickly darting in and for the nearest building.

During their passage of the garden section, though, a resounding _**crash**_ sounded, them knowing that loud noise to be the temple wall being smashed through. That, and that Cyclops just so happened to be humongous enough to see them while doing this, even if it came from the _opposite_ end of Xiaolin Loser Temple. In a last ditch effort, they quickly both sprung forward in a leap at the building's side that offered the proper concealment in such dire need.

They both landed with grunts upon the ground, sliding a short way behind the building.

' _Made it_ ,' thought Jack with happy accomplishment, despite the slight throbbing in his chest.

When he looked up, though, he saw Kimiko standing behind it as well, giving him an amused smile.

"Wow, you really work for your 'dramatic entrances', huh?"

Both redheads glowered at her. Suppressing a groan, Jack got up with his bot, lightly dusting his front off as they walked with wide steps, taking full advantage of their height.

"I guess that makes three," remarked Jack with sudden happiness toward Robo-Jack, hands going into his trench coat pockets whilst they strode past her.

"You know," began Robo-Jack with faked realization, index finger to lower lip, "I think you're right," now smiling at his creator with humor. He snapped just for effect.

They were in the midst of chuckling before the girl pointedly asked, "Three _what_?" The last word's growled out utterance had him turning to her with a wary frown as she managed to keep up with them nonetheless.

"Us," he lied, taking the first even _slightly believable_ route out of her anger he could think of.

Her brow rose after that, incredulously, Kimiko retracting back a moment. Then she righted herself, eyes narrowing. "Why do I not believe you."

She could have at least asked.

"Iunno," replied both redheads, feigning innocence while shrugging.

"Come to think of it," began Jack with a sudden tap to his chin amidst her very clear displeasure at being with him, "wasn't that one-eyed moron able to–"

Just when they were approaching the third and last building's end in their walk along the row of them for cover, that very moron's footsteps became quite audible. During the grounds light trebling, Jack looked up from his thinking to see the beginnings of that stupid, giant eye revealing from above the building. Upon an equally stupid red head.

When Cyclops stepped to the building's side to fully reveal himself, the three immediately retreated backwards some yards onto the adjacent track-yard. Jack and Robo-Jack via quick activations of their heli-packs mid-jump; and Kimiko with a swift usage of the Jetbootsu, rockets moving her quicker than the redheads.

By the time they landed, Cyclops was turned toward them. Standing with the other two, Jack glared at the giant.

"Smell really good," he muttered to finally finish, lips pulling downward. And how the enormous moron most definitely did _not_. Jack was _perfectly_ fine where he was at the present. Slightly tainted air was **vastly** superior to the previous plague-like quality it held. Not a moment later, though, and his nose steadily began to turn up in disgust, red eyes narrowing further whilst the other three idiots made their appearances, walking out from behind the building. Each one with their own horrendous attempts at evil smirks, Tubby's mask being besides the point – his fat eyes were enough.

Team Moron Heylin standing right before him.

Jack immediately eyed their conveniently in-plain-sight Wu. Fatso's Sword of the Storm at his side, that Russian idiot's currently-worn Fist of Tebigong, Cat Breath's raised wearing of the Crys–

"Well well, if it isn't **_Jack Spicer_ ,**" his name coming out like it alone was a joke, the other three laughing behind her, Cyclops' spewing forth spit that made him just that much happier for the current gap between the two groups.

" _Ashley_ ," her name coming forth with disgust, even despite the anger it brought said moron. "They made _you_ leader?" He asked with sudden humor, chuckling lightly with Robo-Jack pointing a mocking thumb at her, smiling at creator. Victory on a cat-ball covered plate.

He was half-way through a shudder when Leader Moron spoke.

"It's _Katnappe_ ," hissed out Kat Moron, eyes somewhat narrowed at him. But she suddenly snorted at Jack, losing her anger to turn toward Kimiko with a pitying smirk. As if he wasn't even worth her disgusting time. "You must be desperate to be working with this loser," she _announced_. He was beginning to glare again when she continued with, "Then again, you probably are, _considering_ ," smiling a Cheshire cat grin at the monk.

Jack looked to Kimiko to see her literally simmering in her glare at the cat freak, fists forming at her sides. Jack only got to look between the two once, feeling like he was out of some kind of loop, before the morons once again broke out into their attempt at a villainous group laugh. He responded with an appropriately dirty look at them, but Kimiko got his attention by seething out his name in an amazingly harsh whisper.

She proceeded to ground out, "Where are your robots?"

"On stand-by – why?" he muttered quickly to her, looking to Vlad with hate now, getting ready for his response for when the four stopped laughing.

"We get them _**now**_."

And that was the first time that he ever liked her anger to such an extent, looking fully to her scowl upon Katnappe with an excited smile. This time, though, he didn't think even a second on what Kat Moron did, actually really wanting to stop Moronic Melodies' on-going chorus, himself. Robo-Jack smiled cruelly at the four right then and there, teeth showing in sharp rows, Jack turning to them as well with just as much sinister delight.

"GUARD-BOTS!" called Jack, grin splitting his face at the three's – screw the too-big red giant idiot, whom was still going with his spit throwing laughter – impending fates. " _ **ANNIHILATIFY!**_ " His arm was thrust out in a firm point at the offenders, scowling at them, hating their mocking smiles, cat breath and Russian idiot even crossing their arms, a shudder-inducing tilt of that already horrifying cat-eared head. But Vlad's wide, stupid grin was what really got him riled up, those thick black eyebrows of his adding just that much more moron to his being.

No sooner than he finished, though, four Guard-bots made themselves known, standing to full height from behind a couple buildings to their left, over the other side of the dirt track-yard. Their guns' alignment for the cat freak was just as swift, their loud, energetic charges coming to completion.

Katnappe's face alone was worth the entire trip. Vlad's comically widened eyes and Tubby's _actually fat_ ones?

Priceless.

Four simultaneous booming shots fired, their blue masses soaring for Katnappe. But even though her expression managed to get better, eyes widening even still amidst those stupid ears full stand-up, she, unfortunately, managed to leap to the side, fatso and Vlad doing the same.

However, Big Fat and Red was still perfectly in place with his stupid wide eye. Jack's grin went toothy right when they smacked into him, their quick combined explosion rocking the ground whilst Cyclops was knocked into a backward tumble with a whiny cry.

The bots swiftly put their large hands upon the remnants of roofing, vaulting over. There landfall was loud against the ground, shaking it while Cyclops managed to right himself into a growling glare, other morons standing with their Wu at the ready. Looking _up_ in panicked battle stances.

The Guard-bots wasted not a second before they charged with stamping steps toward their targets whilst Kimiko did the same, running at an impressive speed. Especially for her height, even if she was a little taller. It was no wonder she got behind that building first…

She even managed to miss her angry hit at the cat-themed moron before the bots made it to their intended foes, those glasses allowing the freak to see Kimiko's hit coming. Said freak's returning smirk, though, also got his attention, her regarding Kimiko mockingly as another small fist was caught.

The change was not appreciated.

She was starting to say something to Kimiko when Jack called out, "Hey, _Ashley_ ," three loud impacts sounding from his other side, a harsh gust wind starting up as well, him grinning both for those and Kat Moron's current scowl at her opponent, "do you clean the box _before_ or _after_ you use it?" The death-glare she turned toward him only made him smile wider. It went into a full-blown evil smirk when Kat Moron payed the price for paying any attention to him while fighting _that_ particular monk, Kimiko harshly pulling back her currently-held small fist. Her head impacted with Leader Moron's lurched forward one, an audible snap of cartilage following. Kat Moron's nasal grunt was interrupted by a thrust knee to the gut, keeling her over with another quick grunt. Kimiko growled loudly, a previously cocked back _red_ fist flying straight into Ashley's whiskered face not a moment after, cocking her head nicely to the side with an awesome sizzle as the glasses were knocked cleanly off Leader Moron's person. Like a heap of freakish garbage, Ashley fell to the ground, Jack taking delight in the remedying black splotch now burned onto the cat freak's left cheek whilst Kimiko eyed her fallen opponent with distaste, lips curled in disgust.

Robo-Jack meanwhile watched with a sharp-toothed, dark smirk as Cyclops' backward travel continued after two Guard-bots' smack upon his front, a plentiful amount of dirt already gathered behind the beast's heels. Soviet Idiocy, meanwhile, was mid-way through a visible shuddering quake from his Fist of Tebigong's impact upon a Guard-bot's own fist. Mid-way, because the attacking bot wasted no further time to swipe its large blaster right into the idiot, a loud smack of its metal going by against Vlad's entire side.

Both Redheads cackled loudly with pointing fingers when the Soviet moron went into a comical spin on unsteady feet, watching those blue eyes swirl. Their unkindly narrowed red orbs turned to Tubby then, hearing his lame battle cry. And the picking up of that still-going gust of wind. The ninja began to spin it fiercer, still, Jack being somewhat impressed, given his definite acquiring of cellulite en mass.

Both redheads brought up a hand to block their eyes, watching the Guard-bot's slow-but-sure perseverance. Each sounding metal clank against the ground turned their lips higher. Tubby was now more screaming than anything else, bringing a chuckle to the duo's hand-guarded vile smirks.

A single louder smack of metal against the dirt sounded, robot firmly planting itself before leaning forward. Its internals roared to life, exhaust leaving its sides while red eyes glowed brighter before its left foot kicked straight through the rushing wind, implanting its two-pronged foot into Tubby's fat form. The wind halted while copious pounds of pure fat gave way to metal like rubber, Tubbimurra audibly rushing through the wind not a second later and quickly approaching the dark clouds.

They guffawed at the revolving planetoid ninja, Jack managing to yell, "Make sure to _**bounce** real high_ , Tubby!" A couple loud cackles followed from both boy genius and invention whilst they crossed their arms, doubling over slightly with snickers.

They stopped suddenly, though, turning their cruel attention toward a loud clack of metal just in time to hear _and see_ the red giant whine agitatedly with pain whilst one of the two Guard-bots restraining him pressed its cannon harder against Cyclops' closed eye. Both large bots pushed simultaneously while maintaining their hold upon big red arms. Vlad's previous opponent engaged its thrusters, Tubb's quickly making for the giant's rear with heavy and fast footfalls.

The flier reached a decent altitude above Big Red Dummy, swiftly disengaging its rocket thrusters. Its legs extracted, Guard-bot re-aligning itself to fall shoulder first as the other reached Cyclops' rear. During the two restraining bots' frontal assault, it firmly grasped the giant's ponytail, yanking in a backward arch that earned an ear-splitting scream from the beast as it followed the motion.

"AAAHHHH, _**SHADDAP!**_ " yelled both Jack and Robo-Jack with some measure of true annoyance, gravity bringing the one Guard-bot smashing down onto Cyclops' sky-facing gut right after and bringing an abrupt halt to the giant's whiny screams. The duo barely even heard a grunt from the last-remaining opponent, Heylin monster slamming into the ground and likely shaking the temple's entirety.

Debris fell from buildings during the rumble's passage, partial roofs becoming somewhat more partial as the redheads let out evil cackles at Cyclops' defeat. They kept it up for a bit, Jack stopping once the dirt cleared. When he got a good look at the giant idiot's unconscious form, Robo-Jack was not the only one to fall to the ground with pointing guffaws.

Robo-Jack interrupted his laughter, though, calling "Hey."

Jack opened his eyes toward his robotic clone, lightly chuckling still. Robo-Jack, though was focused intently on something, a rising cruel grin getting Jack to look too. His own vile smile soon joined Robo-Jack's sharp-toothed one as they lay eyes upon the Russian doofus still dizzily sitting on his rear.

They quickly got up and practically stomped their way over toward Vlad's sitting form, fingers tensed at their sides as they stared daggers through the boy's form. When upon him, they regarded the unsuspecting dizzy idiot with sharp, teeth-showing grins, fingers twitching into partial curls.

"Oh, we're not done with you, _Vlad_ ," ending their dark declaration with momentary disgust, even in the midst of their impending vengeance. Jack came to Soviet Idiocy's front, robotic clone to the rear.

Let none say that he wasn't willing to get his hands dirty.

Dual right hands made in their descent toward their unsuspecting victim, grabbing fiercely upon a particular garment's band. Dual merciless yanks upward immediately woke the idiot, Jack laughing right in Vlad's ugly face as the Russian released a high pitched tiny squeak through barely parted lips. Up he went, the two hoisting him up to have his feet dangle tensely above the dirt ground.

"What's that, Vlad?" questioned Jack mockingly, moving his ear closer with other hand cupped around it. Leaning in with a sudden upward twist of his lips, " _Higher_ , you say?"

The boy genius regarded Vlad with an ecstatic grin, those beady eyes trailing tears only adding to Jack's sinister amusement. A sudden turn of his captive's brainless head in the negative only served to fuel an obnoxious laugh from Jack as he motioned a Guard-bot over. Its weighted footfalls made those teary blues fearfully swivel to one side, a shaky and strained turn of Vlad's head beginning.

When the bot stopped, the captive, for some reason, looked beyond the darkly garbed fellow. The pleading expression brought a sudden confused frown to him, Jack turning to see Kimiko looking to them with brows raised to her hairline practically, a small quirk to her lips.

Not a shred of remorse present.

For some reason, that heightened his joy to unparalleled levels, him turning back to Vlad with a far sharper, ear-splitting smirk.

They let go of the likely rancid clothing, the briefest moment of relief showing on Vlad's face. Just when his feet met the ground, a metal clank sounded, those blues widening wonderfully as he was once more grabbed by the rear of those undergarments.

"Wa–" the beginning loud plea being turned into a yelping scream as the Russian was hurriedly hoisted up into the air as high as the bot could manage, a quick sound of cotton tearing going by as Vlad dangled by his tighty not-so-whiteys.

Hands fisted upon their sides, the redheads eyed him with no short amount of dark joy.

"Guard-bot, send this guy _**SKY**_ **HIGH**!"

His Guard-bot lowered the arm until it was straight to its front, Vlad dropping with it until the bot yanked the arm right back up to its original position, cleanly tearing off an un-healthy portion of those undergarments. Vlad's eyes nearly pulled all the way back in their upward travel, biting his lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle his groan whilst his hands came to cover his crotch. Which made it all the easier for the Guard-bot to land a clean and sounding kick right smack dab in the middle of those horrendous cheeks, sending off the Soviet Heylin in a loud yell. Straight outta the temple went that stupid Russian, flying through the dark sky in the perfect balance between evil and – more importantly – _embarrassing_ defeat.

Jack and his bots watched him go, the teen swiftly outstretching his right hand, Robo-Jack proceeding to do the same and _pour_ alcohol upon both hands hastily, bottle upturned and squeezed. Closing the cap and hastily putting it back within his own trench coat, both began to quickly rub their hands together before speedily bringing a hand up above their eyes whilst Vlad soared through the air. A few seconds into the spectacle and RJ began a slow extension of his optics for just the perfect focus. When the boy was but a moronic dot in the dark sky, both goggle-wearing fellows turned to one another with raised fists, Robo-Jack quickly retracting his built-in binocs.

" _That's my boys **!**_ " they yelled through still-going chuckles, high-fiving audibly, "Maybe that'll teach em to mess with," both raising a fist toward the now-evil heavens, " **JACK** _ **SPICER!**_ " Proper evil laughter ensued toward the dark sky, arms raised at an arch before themselves with curled fingers. The Guard-bots mirrored their look, booming monotone laughs of their own joining with the duo's, Jack-bots now flying up and over the ground's surrounding walls and buildings, making for their victorious creator.


End file.
